Wishing On Yesterday: A Richonne Christmas Story
by Sophiasown
Summary: Michonne had chosen career over love, but even with her soaring success there was a void in her life. She wished she knew what her life would've been like had she chosen a different path. With a lot of love and a hint of magic on one special night at Christmas, she might be granted a do-over. Lucky for her Christmas is the best time for second chances.
1. Chapter 1

_**A:N: Because it's Christmas and I couldn't resist. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!**_

 _ **Sophia**_

* * *

 _ **December 2013**_

It was the kind of dismal conversation that didn't have a specific place or time. It didn't belong on a nippy but still cheery night, five days before Christmas. Michonne would've preferred a hot Wednesday in the summer maybe, because saying what she had to say to Rick five days before Christmas undoubtedly added to the disheartened feeling she'd been trying to stave off for the past two days.

The brightly decorated houses with hollies on the front doors, the moonlight basking the street in a luminescent beauty and wonder that usually descended the earth at Christmas, all felt like an ominous backdrop to the already bleak atmosphere twirling around Rick and Michonne. The romantic beam the street light cast on them did nothing to ease the gripping sense of finality from her conscience.

She had finally found love, but it was a bit late.

The holidays were supposed to be about quality time with friends and family. Not preparing to say goodbye to the only life she'd ever known. Michonne grasped Rick's hand, struggling between holding onto it and letting go of it. She was making a hard choice, a choice she never thought she would have to make. Her dreams were holding her at ransom, reminding her of the promises she once made to herself, but love, love was being auctioned off at a low price. To win at one she had to lose at one. She felt defeated both ways.

"You know how much I love you, Rick..."

"Yeah, I know." The intensity of Rick's stare was enough to make Michonne surrender to his plight then and there, but he wouldn't want that for her, for them. Not after she'd worked her butt off to get the internship other people only dreamed about.

"So you must know how hard this is for me?" Hot tears spilled onto her cheeks, the very ones she was trying to hold back.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I had plans for us." Rick said, his voice husky, clogged with disappointment.

Michonne could see his eyes glistening under the guilty glare of the streetlight. The call that had changed her life, only came in a few days ago. She was getting her affairs in order, readying herself for a new chapter in the book of her life. Leaving Rick was the last thing she wanted to do, but they were on two different paths career wise, like parallel lines unable to meet. There was no miracle that would let her have the two things she wanted most in life.

"It wasn't." Things didn't always go according to plan. She of all people knew that first-hand. What was the line about man making plans and God laughing about said plans?

"What if I told you I was gonna ask you to marry me?" Rick fingered the ring in his pocket. It was a few days before Christmas. Five days before he actually planned to propose to Michonne in front of all their friends and family. Something - he didn't know what it was - made him tuck the black box into his jeans pocket on his way over to the Anthony's.

Michonne was stunned by Rick's admission, she swallowed and rubbed her forehead. She pulled her double breasted coat tighter against her, trying to ward off the chill and the plunging pool of sadness that had gripped her.

"Let's not do this." The shoulda, woulda, coulda's were going to be the death of her.

She had to find hope, even if she knew it would cripple her. It was only a year. They would survive a year.

"That's a lame cop out and you know it." Rick's tone was flat. He knew she didn't believe him. Rick was settled on Michonne from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was the one who needed to catch up. He would never stand in the way of her dreams. He wouldn't ever want her to look at him with regret, feeling like she'd _settle_ for him.

"It's only one year, Rick." Time would fly by quickly. Michonne didn't think she was in a position to ask him to wait. "Can you wait for me?" She did anyway. This wasn't a permanent goodbye, it couldn't be. She'd be back in Georgia before she knew it. Then they could start planning their life together.

"Can you?" Rick eyed her speculatively. He wouldn't ask Michonne to choose. He knew how important her career was to her. He understood this was something she needed to do. He would wait for her forever if he had to. Michonne was always destined for great things. The little town they called home had a limitation on _great things,_ so even when they met and fell in love six months ago her eyes were still roaming outside for greatness.

He knew, he always knew he wouldn't be enough to sustain her.

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing." She was crying, hot tears streamed down her cold cheeks like a waterfall.

"Don't do this, Michonne. Don't put this on me. You're the one walkin' away here." The tall light above them couldn't hide the sadness in Rick's eyes. "I'd fight for you, for us." He took a deep breath. "You know that." Rick didn't think he had anything to prove. Michonne knew how he felt about her. She was never one of those women that needed a man to swoop in on a horse to save her.

"Just let me do this one thing..." She held onto the lapels of his jacket in a tight grip. If she didn't get his blessing on this, it would haunt her forever.

"I'd never stand in the way of your dreams." Even if her dreams were gonna cost him his.

"I know you won't."

"What am I gonna say to Carl?" Rick wasn't really asking her. He just threw the question out, hoping the universe would give him some kind of logical response.

Carl was the other half of Michonne's heart, when she met Rick at a Carnival Sasha and Maggie dragged her to all those months ago, she wasn't expecting to fall in love with him or his four year old son. Now he was a piece of her as much as Rick was. Leaving them wasn't going to be easy.

"You two can come out to visit."

"You know I'm up for that Sheriff's Deputy position. I'm not sure we'll have time to come out to L.A." He dragged the last two words, she sensed on purpose. The City Of Angels was taking his.

Rick was content with the life he had. He had dreams and goals, but they were contained within the perimeters of King County. Home and family - that's what success meant for him. He didn't completely grasp why Michonne had to leave to find hers. He knew her like the back of his hand though, she always had to go her way first. Hopefully in finding her way, she could find theirs.

It's not that Michonne didn't want to be Rick's wife, she just didn't want to be _only_ Rick's wife. She knew it was unfair to spring this on him the day before she left, but time wasn't on her side. Everything had been a mad rush since she got that phone call. Rosita Espinosa was an established fashion designer that catered for the everyday woman wanting a little fantasy in their lives. Michonne had applied three times for the internship of her dreams. It was surreal when she received the call from the iconic Ms. Espinosa herself saying her persistence was persuasive in her selection. Rosita was piqued on Michonne's idea of a selective woman of color line, and promised Michonne once her internship was halfway through she could make a pitch. It was a dream come true. Not one she was going to take lightly. She usually went with her gut, but even her gut was failing her in assuring her she was making the right choice. She just had to trust that she was doing the right thing. She hoped walking away from Rick for a year would be worth it.

"A lot can happen in a year." He wanted to have faith, but everything felt so final.

"We'll Skype, and facetime, and call. It would be like we're never apart."

Rick gathered her close, just in case it was the last time he was able to do so. Michonne was going to be a big time fancy fashion designer, he was sure of her success as he was his love for her. He just didn't think there was room in that success for him. He tried not to think it was selfish wanting to believe he could be all that she needed. Unfortunately, when compared to the bright lights, and the glamorous appeal of the big city, he knew he'd lost.

He would give her the benefit of the doubt. He would wait.

"I love you." His tone was dulcet as he claimed Michonne's lips in a possessive dance. Her arms went around him, then into his curls. Rick tightened the hold he had on her small waist, relishing how warm she felt as she melted in his embrace. She knew she would never find this feeling anywhere else in the world.

"I love you too," Michonne said, when they finally let up for air.

"I'll wait. I'll always wait for you, Michonne." He touched her cheek with his fingers drying her tears, savouring the softness. Michonne was by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He wanted to be her husband. He wanted to have five more kids with her. They deserved that future.

She leaned into him again, needing to be close.

"You think we could still try to enjoy the night?" They had a house full of their favorite people inside.

Michonne observed her dad struggle with the giant blown up Santa on the front lawn. Her parents were Christmas freaks. Too much wasn't enough; they believed in excess for Christmas. She wasn't as obsessed with the holiday, considering her happiness was the result of a bitter trade off made in the heart of the season known for believing in the impossible. She certainly didn't believe in Santa Claus. Not since she was six years old. Nor was she a subscriber to the sentimental drivel that usually came with the commercialized festivities.

"I should go help him," Rick said, releasing her hand. She let go reluctantly, wanting to be selfish and hold onto Rick for a little while longer. Even if she was being that way, Rick wasn't. Rick Grimes wasn't a selfish man.

She watched the two most important men in her life adjust Santa and his Elves on the neatly trimmed yard. Michonne stuffed her hands in her pocket, trying to smile through the breaking of her heart.

Twelve months would fly by. She'd be back soon enough, then she and Rick could start their lives together. A strong wind swept through the street, bringing a gush of doubt with it. If she was making the right decision then why did she feel so empty inside?

* * *

 _ **December 2018**_

"London? You're kidding?" Michonne was slacked jawed. She leaned back into the over priced office chair opposite her friend and boss, Rosita, still in disbelief. She was thrilled at the prospect yet scared of the change.

"As a heart attack. You've already proven your worth to this company Michonne. Now it's time you reap the rewards."

"I don't know what to say." She bit her lip as she deliberated on what the possibilities a relocation like this could mean for her. Big Ben and the London eye were attractions she always wanted to see. Her last visit across the pond had been for the London Fashion Show the year before. It didn't afford her the time to sightsee. That would change if she was living in London.

"Say yes. You're a free woman with nothing to hold you back. Not even Mike." Rosita was sporting a no-nonsense high bun today, paired with her infamous diamond encrusted gold hoops. She was style with legs, even on her worst days.

Michonne got the message her boss was sending her way, even if she was pontificating.

Everyone was aware of her relationship with Mike. Everything had passed from HR's end, which was important to Michonne because it was critical to her integrity to be above board. The company's fraternization policy was not strict, but she didn't want to cut any corners.

What she and Mike had never got in the way of their work. They were both driven in their fields, and had a friendly competitive rivalry going on with their projects. Mike always wanted the best for her. Then again, Mike always wanted the best for himself too.

Michonne wasn't sure how he would take the news. _If_ she decided to take the offer that is. She smoothed her pink satin, pussy bow blouse, wishing for an ounce of the confidence the get up usually gave her in droves. "When do I have to decide?"

"Take the weekend. Weigh it out. I want you in London by New Years."

Michonne eyed Rosita with speculation. She hadn't been the friendliest in the beginning, but the two forged an uncharted friendship. Despite their obvious difference in career status, she appreciated Rosita's loyalty.

"Wow, that fast huh?"

"I need to know you're in this Michonne. I love all your designs, but you're ability to get things done and still stay detached is exactly why I want you heading up the London office."

Michonne knew what it all meant, five years at _Last Woman On Earth_ and she'd taken lead on several big fashion campaigns over the years. Once her internship was completed, she was offered a position as Rosita's assistant. She successfully launched a small scale series of her own designs; from her sexy lingerie to full figured sports apparel lines. She was on her way to doing her own thing soon enough. Michonne was constantly working on building her brand, while she wasn't a perfectionist she took pride in the tasks she was given, completing most before the deadline with little to no errors.

Her gusto impressed Rosita. She got the offer in writing. Rosita told her she'd be a loss to _LWOE_ if she went back to Georgia. Michonne had to leave some things, people, in the past to achieve her success. She felt like the decision was made for her when she returned home two years later. Rick was done waiting, done with the false hope. Heartache born from her choices cemented her decision to return to Los Angeles as quickly as she'd returned to King County.

Fast forward a few months, she met Mike; a rising Ad Executive Rosita hired to bring some new blood into the company's Marketing department. There was a good chance if she took the opportunity and went to London, she could be partner in a year. Rosita could give her carte blanche on her own line. She could form her own company. The possibilities were endless. Excitement coursed through her veins.

It's what she always wanted. So why was there a feeling of sadness in the pit of her belly?

"Are you coming to the Christmas party?" Rosita asked, walking around her wide Nevada desk, sauntering to the wide windows overlooking the hub of the city. Rosita was always selective in what she wore, today she pulled off a leather crop top with a black, high waisted pencil skirt - appropriately penned The Rosita skirt.

"Wasn't really planning on it. You know I'm not big on Christmas." Michonne shrugged, she wasn't in the mood for the grand Christmas affair. She wanted to pretend another Christmas wasn't looming. She felt like Scrooge, Bah humbug indeed!

She didn't have the optimum energy required to plaster on a fake smile, and schmooze with the who of who's in the fashion industry. "Plus I have to run this by Mike. See what he thinks."

Rosita shifted her gaze to Michonne, seeing the unease on her face. "I get that you're probably in love,. it's something I was never able to obtain. It's just the price you pay for success sometimes. Run this by Mike, but don't make him think it's his decision." In an uncharacteristically weird gesture, Rosita held Michonne's chin, "Sometimes happiness comes with a price, and Mike is cheap." The bold red lipstick on Rosita's lips matched the fire in her brown eyes, showcasing how much she believed in what she was saying.

Rosita was implying she couldn't have London and love, but she already knew the lyrics to the song playing. As if nothing affecting happened between them, Rosita returned to the windows again, folding her arms. "Viola and Octavia are coming to the party, they both said they would love to see you again."

Michonne wasn't too big on the celebrity bit of her job. She had met a good collection of stars from the snotty to the down to earth, but she was all about the designs being brought to life.

"I'll think about it. " She didn't want to sound so closed off. She wasn't lying she was going to think about it.

"Do that. Take the rest of the day off. You look like a truck ran over you." Rosita smirked, which was rare. She mostly had one neutral facial expression.

Michonne dusted some imaginary lint off her Jimmy Choo brayden boots before she got up.

She masked her despondency well as she gathered her folder off the desk then headed out the office.

* * *

"Santa! You're going in the wrong direction!" Andrea blew out a breath, causing her blonde bangs to lift off her forehead, making her look more comical than confused.

Michonne's face lightened on sight when she saw Rosita's assistant chasing Santa Claus down the festively decorated hall. "Don't go anywhere Mich! I'll be right with ya!" Andrea squealed, finally grabbing onto fake Santa, leading him to the elevator after giving him some rushed instructions.

Santa turned in Michonne's directions and winked at her. A twinkle sound rang in Michonne's ears, similar to someone sprinkling fairy dust in the air, like in a Disney movie. Which was hilarious, because it was obviously impossible. She shook it off, glad that Rosita told her to take the rest off the day to relax.

Michonne sat behind Andreas's workstation, waiting surely on some new hot office gossip from the Editor in Chief herself on all things drama at _LWOE_. She was going to indulge the effervescent blonde, in much need of the distraction.

"I'm not sure why Spencer sent that man up here! The children's outreach is taking place on the twelfth floor!" Andrea was back, out of breath, trying to walk in heels that were too high, and a skirt that was too short.

"Santa looked like he knew where he was going."

"He didn't, although he mumbled something about someone needing him, or something or the other," she said dryly, ushering Michonne out of her brand new ergonomic chair. "Who died?" Andrea was only now taking in Michonne's lackluster facial expression.

"No one. Rosita wants me to head up the London office."

Andrea's face brightened instantly. "No shit! Yess! You deserve this Mich!"

Before Michonne could respond Santa returned again. This time Michonne noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes as he stepped off the elevator. Santa had familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes the color of a warm Caribbean sea. Blue eyes that she'd spend hours gazing into. Blue eyes she hadn't thought about in a while. Reminiscing about those blue eyes made her nostalgic every time she did.

"Rick! You need to go down two floors! Not up two floors!" Andrea reached for her desk phone. "Seriously I'm gonna kill Spencer!"

Santa's name was Rick? What were the odds? If it wasn't for Santa's silver gray hair, and short stature Michonne would've been confused.

 _Santa_ winked at Michonne. _Again_.

She heard charms twinkling in her head. She was sure of it. She looked around, up and down the corridor then down the opposite hallway and came up empty. She wondered if the Sales Team were playing a Christmas prank on her again.

After getting new directions Santa was on his way for the second time.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Andrea said.

"Did you hear that?" Michonne wanted to know if she was the only one.

"Hear what?" Andrea was clueless.

"Nevermind." Michonne checked her iPhone to see if Mike called or messaged. Nothing. "I had a Rick once," she blurted out.

Interest piqued, Andrea sat down and clasped her hands together, waiting on the story - she was sure there was one based on the serious, sincere tone Michonne had. Michonne laughed, Andrea was wide eyed and bushy tailed, as though she was waiting to hear the secret of life. "It's nothing. We were together, and then we weren't."

"He cheated didn't he?" Andrea accused.

"He didn't. Not all men cheat Andrea."

Amy from Sales, Andrea's sister, interrupted their conversation, needing Michonne's signature on a sales invoice. When she was gone Michonne continued the trek into her past.

"I chose LA over him. I thought it was only going to be for a year. So we were... we were on hold." Michonne didn't know why she felt the need to bring up old dirt. She and Rick had both moved on. Curiosity made her wonder about what could've been when the nights were cold and lonely.

Her heart felt empty despite her life being so full.

"Oh damn. I didn't know. I thought you and Mike were…"

"Mike is great, but we've only been dating three years." She thought Mike was going to propose this Christmas. He hinted enough at some big changes for the both of them. The fact she was undecided on what her response would be scared her a little. She had the job she always wanted with a guy that suited her needs. She made a name for herself. She had so much success, but no fulfillment. It ate at her. She wondered why now?

"He didn't agree with me staying here after the internship. Said it was gonna ruin us." Michonne shrugged in remorse. Rick had been right. She knew some resentment piled up on her end because of it. Rick was always so sure about them. He was still willing then, but they couldn't come to a compromise that made it worth it for the both of them.

She loved him, she did, but she had to see what else was out there. In hindsight it may not have been an even trade off. Eventually the Skype calls lessened and phone calls become a thing of the past. She was even too busy at work to fly home for the holidays.

When she met Mike, they fell in sync because they both wanted the same things. Not even love was going to get in the way of that.

"Where is he now?"

"Last I heard he was dating someone."

Sasha called to let her know, not wanting her to find out from anyone else. Michonne didn't want to admit it to herself, but walking away from Rick may have been her biggest regret. She thought their love was always going to be true. The job she thought she wanted more than anything had cost her Rick. She had opted to trust her gut and not her heart.

"So you mean if you weren't here, you would've been married to this Rick? Is he good looking?" Andrea was curious. She was seconds away from doing a Facebook search.

"He's the most handsome man I've ever seen." She blushed at the image of Rick that popped in her head. "I don't know what we would've been, but I guess a part of me wonders what would've happened if I said yes to his proposal."

Andrea brushed her off with a wave of her hand, her popping red, almond nails hard to miss. "You mean this Rick proposed to you, and you said no!"

"He didn't actually propose. He said he was going to. I guess I didn't believe him."

She wondered what kind of wife she would've made if he had. Would she have been a good mother to Carl? Would they have had more children? She couldn't even imagine herself being pregnant with Rick's baby. Those kind of trippy dreams seemed like a lifetime ago.

The thought of a future in London was making her nostalgic for what _was, what could've been. What_ would her path look like now if she stayed in Georgia? Distance and time were their achilles heel. At least that was her rationale for why they couldn't be together.

Inherently she knew she was to be blamed.

"Does Mike know?" Andrea asked, sucking on a red lollipop.

"He doesn't. It's not something we talked about."

She and Mike discussed work, mostly. He never was available to fly in to meet her friends or family the few times she was able to see her parents. Sasha claimed Mike was a ghost, which in a weird sort of way could be true.

"I guess I'd be wondering too. What do you think Mike would say when he finds out you're going to London?"

"I haven't taken the job yet," Michonne said, for no good reason. Andrea looked at Michonne, her blue eyes staring at her like she was Bigfoot. They both knew what Michonne's choice would be. Mike may not be very happy about the move. He would be happy for her, but he might be crushed this was the end of the line for them. It was proven she couldn't excel at long distance relationships.

She had to talk to him as soon as possible.

"Are you coming to the Christmas party? I've already planned if Ashton comes this year I'm gonna trip right in front of him and fall on his crotch." Andrea was making vain attempts to cheer up her friend.

Michonne looked defeated. She produced a lazy laugh covering half of her face with her hand. "Of course you are." Andrea was a special case sometimes. "I don't know if I'll come to the party."

"Maybe you should give this Rick a call. Hit him up. Say hi. You never know."

She waved Andrea off, walking to her office, a couple feet away from Andrea's cubicle.

"I don't think it makes sense now. I'm already too late. It would take a miracle."

"It's Christmas silly. The season for miracles." Andrea's phone rang, ending the conversation.

Shutting down her MacBook, Michonne grabbed another one of her designer handbags from her fancy desk and closed her office door.

It was time to go home.

* * *

Michonne was on her third glass of wine, when she heard Mike's signature knock on her apartment door. She fixed her messy bun, glad she opted for yoga pants instead of anything fancy simply because Mike was coming over. She leaned on the frame seeing Mike's handsome face smiling back at her. He was holding a bottle of white wine despite the many times she said she preferred red. He was always dressed to the nines. The cost of his pricey designer shoes was enough to feed a small family.

"You're not answering my calls. You okay?" Mike gave her a kiss on the lips, walking into her chic apartment. Her high rise had been a steal of a deal, and only twenty minutes from work. She had a great view of the city. Michonne enjoyed looking out her window at night when the place really came alive.

"I had a headache. I'm alright now." She sat on the single chair while Mike took the couch.

Compared to the busy larger than life Christmas decorations that were in every store , every office floor, and in the lobby of her apartment building, her space looked bland. The Christmas spirit had passed her by another year. She wasn't sure how she'd break the news about her potential move to London to her boyfriend.

"I heard congratulations are in order!" Mike relaxed in the seat, and set his arms flat out on the arm of the chair, beaming at Michonne like she'd won the lotto.

"You know?" she asked. The grapevine at the office worked faster than a freight train.

"Of course I know. Aren't you excited?"

"Aren't you upset? If I take this it would break us."

"This is what you wanted, I'm happy for you babe. If anything I'd say I'm jealous. I'd love to work in London."

"Yeah, I bet you would." Michonne felt foolish for thinking, for assuming Mike wanted their commitment to be something more substantial.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, trying to eliminate her hasty thoughts. "Nothing, it's just... you said you wanted to ask me something important. I assumed…" Michonne's words dropped off. She wasn't going to bother to finish her sentence.

Mike straightened in the chair, focusing on her. A serious expression donned his face. "I was. I was gonna ask you for us to move in together. It made sense for you to live with me." He looked around her apartment, it was always too small for his liking. "My place is bigger anyways. And I wouldn't have to drive thirty minutes to get to you. You know how much I hate downtown traffic."

Michonne felt like she was in a movie, and _not_ the one where the girl got the guy in the end. The commitment she assumed she was going to get from Mike for Christmas was more of a convenience for him.

She let out a single, sarcastic _Ha!_ into the atmosphere.

It hit her then. All Mike really loved was his job. He didn't love her. It took her back to the night she told Rick she was leaving for LA, how much he fought her on it because he couldn't stand to be without her. Michonne let loose a dry laugh. She sat back on the chair needing the support. She was more alone than she thought. Her shoulders felt weighty, she let out an undignified yawn. Too numb to speak, she was ready to call it a night.

Mike reached for her, taking her hands, guiding her into his lap. "Michonne, we both knew one of us was gonna move on at some point." He caressed her back. For the first time in a long time she felt nothing under his touch. "What we had was great. I'll miss you, you know that."

"I'll miss you too Mike." Unlike the last time, she knew this was a final goodbye. Even if she didn't take the job in London.

"I'm tired. Can I call you later?"

"Yeah. Yeah of course. I just wanted to come congratulate you. You did good, kid. You have everything you've always dreamed." Mike kissed her again, this one was more final than the last.

"Get home safely."

"I'm headed into the office. I need to get some work done."

She checked her Cartier watch, an exorbitant gift from Mike on her birthday, "It's ten."

Mike shrugged, unapologetically. "You know this is the hour the genius comes out."

Not that she needed the reminder, but work would forever be a priority for Mike. She could see now the type of future they would have if she stayed with him; they would be living together, barely seeing each other. They would sit at the breakfast table in their stainless steel kitchen both reading the L.A times, but not uttering a word to each other.

A cold front passed through her body. She shuddered at the projection.

"Goodbye Mike." Closing her eyes, she leaned on the door when he was gone.

This wasn't the way she expected her life to turn out.

* * *

Michonne sat in front of the TV for a few minutes, pondering her life choices. She eyed the two _LWOE_ throw pillows on her sofa with apprehension. She felt like the butt of all jokes. Rosita's company and mantra was always, "Dress like you're the Last Woman On Earth." Funny that's exactly how Michonne felt. She was the last woman on earth, and she was single. Single and lonely.

Flipping through the television channels, she came across a local news station who had done a feature on their children's outreach. The same directionally challenged Santa was being interviewed by popular news anchor Ezekiel King. Santa seemed to be all about making the kids dreams' come true. Santa Rick looked at the camera, staring ahead at Michonne like he was speaking specifically to her. "The thing about Christmas is that it isn't just for the kids. Us grown ups have wish lists too. If you wish hard enough, your wish just might come true. Just trust your heart." Santa winked at her, or the camera, Michonne wasn't sure.

There was that sound again, like wind chimes blowing in the cool summer breeze on the front porch. It was surreal and creepy how direct his phrasing was considering all she could think about was what her life would've been like had Rick proposed to her six years ago.

It shouldn't affect her so much, but it did. London seemed promising, but she wanted a do over.

Michonne didn't believe in Santa, but she'd do anything to get a taste of what her life would've been like had she made another choice.

If she chose Rick.

Maybe it was her wine induced tipsiness that made her converse with invisible Santa, or her porous heart that was desperate to feel something.

"Santa, I don't have much faith in you, but make my wish come true." Michonne snuggled with her blanket while the opening credits for It's A Wonderful Life began dancing across her screen. She was too too drowsy to cringe at the irony of it all.

Funny she remembered before drifting off that her mother always said, _be careful what_ _you wish for._


	2. Chapter 2

Michonne's bed felt suspiciously... warm. The softness of her pillow felt fishy too. She was drifting between sleep and wake, trying to decipher why the bed she was sleeping on didn't feel like her own. Michonne's eyelids battered open like a newborn baby. To her surprise, she was not the only occupant in the bed that didn't belong to her.

She shut her eyes closed. Then opened them again.

She probably had a small hangover. Too much wine was her crime, a hangover her penalty. She would go as far as adding delirium to the list, because she was pretty certain Rick Grimes was sleeping soundly on his belly next to her.

Michonne covered her eyes with her hands. This time she clutched the comforter tightly over her shoulders.

She _was dreaming._

 _Rick was not in her bed._

 _She was not in Rick's bed!_

 _They were not in bed together!_

Michonne opened her eyes a second time, producing more of a squint than a full on glare, attempting to be more cautious than the last. Her hand lifted to ward off the streaks of light filtering through the curtains, hitting the bed dead in the middle. Rick was still there. She gasped, pulling the comforter all the way up to her face.

"Wake up, Michonne. You're having a dream," she said to herself, her tone hushed.

"Mommy!" A small eager voice boomed from beyond the bedroom door.

 _Mommy?_

Aware of the surreal feel off things, Michonne tried to quell the panic that struck her. Who was at the door? How did she end up in Rick's bed? Where was the woman that usually answered to the mommy call? Her thoughts were more scrambled than breakfast eggs. She was breaking up with Pinot. For good!

Michonne glanced at bare chested, sleeping, still incredibly handsome Rick again. He hadn't budged. Michonne's heartbeat kicked up a notch. A headache was pulsing at her temples. _What was she doing here?!_

"Mommy! Pancakes!" The sweet, baby voice grew impatient. Michonne could tell it was a child's voice - a little girl perhaps. She closed her eyes again, hoping that once she did whatever manner of evil sorcery that had taken over her life would disappear, and she would return to the comfortable chill of her own bed.

"Mama! I'm hungry!" A different, yet softer voice spoke this time.

"Oh my God! There's two?" A slight sheen of perspiration coated Michonne's forehead. She felt as though she was levitating; not quite wherever she was, not quite where she was supposed to be, either.

Michonne poked Rick's shoulders with her index finger. Twice. He was unmoving, like a brick wall. A sexy brick wall, but a brick wall nonetheless.

 _He felt real._

He didn't feel like dream Rick. Dream Rick was real Rick. She rubbed both eyes, clearing her vision just incase.

Real Rick moaned into his pillow, then Michonne felt a determined tug at her waist. Real Rick dragged her towards his warm, firm frame.

"Five more minutes, babe." He hadn't even open his eyes. _Who the hell was babe?_ Michonne twitched in his hold, but couldn't budge under his vice grip. A tornado could come rummaging through the room and she would be unaffected. She was trapped.

Michonne was mute. She remained as still as a statue in Rick's grasp, even when she heard him return to even breaths.

She was in another world, confused by the bizarre feel of her present circumstances.

Michonne pinched her cheeks. Hard. It hurt. It hurt like hell. She wasn't dreaming. She knew she didn't drink her full bottle of Pinot noir last night, she would never drink more than one glass on a work night. Last night had been an exception because of the horrible day she had despite receiving such exciting news.

 _ **Be careful what you wish for.**_

There was no one else in the room, but the voice Michonne heard was clear. It belonged to 'in need of Google maps' Santa. He may have appeared to not know where he was going, but he certainly knew what he was doing.

 _ **A glimpse into what could've been.**_

The outreach interview came rushing back to Michonne's mind. She remembered Santa, and his ridiculous belief in magic and love. For a brief hopeful minute she'd been duped into believe the same thing too.

The banging on the door continued, like protestants at a rally. She was scared of what was beyond the white barrier.

"We've been ambushed," Rick said, his voice groggy. His eyes were still closed.

 _Why were his eyes still closed?_

"By who?" Michonne thought her voice had left her, but there it was.

"C'mon girls, give Mom and Dad a few more minutes." A boy's voice was heard this time, then the jostling of feet and the closing of a door.

"There's three of them?" Michonne shot up on the bed, jostling Rick in her freakish haste. She scooted away from him in a rush, tumbling off the bed, her ass hitting the ground first.

"Ouch!" She certainly wasn't dreaming, because her butt was in pain.

"You alright?" Rick was perched at the edge of the bed, staring at Michonne on the ground. His eyes were wide open now, his eyebrows scrunched up at her peculiar behaviour.

"That remains to be answered."

Michonne righted herself, returning to the bed. Rick's blue eyes were dead set on her. She fought off the allure. This was the worst prank in the history of worst pranks.

"Who's outside? Banging on the door?" She brought the pristine white sheet up over her mouth. She didn't want to embarrass herself with morning breath.

"Terrorist. And we don't negotiate with terrorists."

"These terrorists got names?"

"That would be Tinker bell, Snuggy Buggy and The Boy." Rick's face twisted in an amused kind of confusion.

"And they are?" Michonne's voice was almost a whisper, she still held the sheet up despite Rick moving closer to her.

"Ours, unfortunately." In slow motion, Rick pulled the sheet away from her face.

"Our kids?"

Michonne used her index finger to point between the two of them. In slow motion her eyes became glued to his naked torso. She didn't know if she wanted to lick it or rest her head on it.

"Uh... yeah. You're the mommy." He drifted closer, burying his stubbled face in the warmth of her neck. "And I'm sure you remember calling me daddy last night." Rick claimed her lips in one swift, specialized motion. Michonne's eyes were wide opened when their lips met. Here she was worrying about morning breath, while Rick was perfectly unbothered by their lack of morning hygiene.

He let her lips go with a loud smack.

"As much as I like you knockered up, maybe you should lay off the alcohol. I told you not to let Maggie lead you astray last night." He laughed, Michonne swore his smile was brighter than the sunlight in the room. Coherent speech evaded her.

"C'mon." Rick flipped the covers, stunning Michonne when he got out of bed and walked around the room.

Stark naked.

"It's Sunday. They're gonna get a bulldozer up here if you don't give them the full Grimes Sunday breakfast special." She watched Rick's bare form like she was a drooling teenager. He picked up a pair of blue boxers from the ottoman at the foot of the king size bed, and dragged them on.

Michonne was in the twilight zone. Somehow she had been transplanted to someone else's life. An alternate universe where she and Rick lived together and had kids. She wanted to move, but she didn't trust her legs. She lifted the covers and almost passed out. She was naked too. She and Rick were in the bed naked, together. She couldn't remember the last time they were naked together.

Could it be that her wish had somehow been granted? How could it be possible? There was no such thing as magic. Santa wasn't real!

She heard the faucet running. Assuming Rick was brushing his teeth, she dashed to the vintage looking chest of drawers, searching through them hurriedly for something to wear. The drawers of the tall chest were neatly packed. Her shorts and tees were stacked neatly next to Rick's boxers and shirts. They were side by side as if it had been that way for years. Michonne glanced on top of the vanity and saw a picture of her and Rick smiling on their wedding day.

She felt faint, frozen by the sheer happiness on her face.

Her head was spinning. That's when the solitaire diamond on Michonne's left hand caught her attention. She was married. By the absurd looks of things she was married to Rick. As if that wasn't enough to give her a heart attack, they had thrown three kids into the mix. She pressed her hands against her temples. Michonne wanted to know what her life would've been like if she chose Rick instead of L.A.

This was it. Her wish had been granted. But How? For how long?

She did _not_ believe in Santa!

"Rick?" she called, trying to mask the shakiness in her tone, but failing miserably.

"Yeah, babe." He peeked out of the ensuite bathroom.

God! His chest was glorious.

"What year is it?" She made it sound like an ordinary question.

"I'm gonna kill Maggie!" Rick shook his head and laughed. "It's 2018."

2018? That was impossible! She needed answers.

Of course, the quickest thing Michonne could find to throw on were a pair of candy cane pajamas. She shuddered as she dragged the festive wear on. She had a gut feeling married Michonne was a Christmas freak on steroids.

Rick walked towards her, his stride determined. When they were chest to chest he grabbed her by the waist.

"If you're not feelin' okay you should lie down for a bit. We have a busy day today and I don't want you overdoing' it." Rick kissed her forehead. The tender way he spoke to her almost made her weep. He always cared about her well being. That hadn't changed.

"Actually, I think I should run to the drugstore to get some painkillers." She needed to get some answers. She didn't know where she was going or how she was going to get there, but she had to try.

"I'll go."

"No! Umm...you stay with the kids! I'll be right back."

"You're acting strange. Is this about tonight? You want everything to be a surprise don't you?"

"You got me!" Michonne play punched Rick in his arm. She had no clue what Rick was talking about, but she went with it anyway. Michonne rushed out the bedroom door. Rick called out to her.

"What?"

"Car keys?" He dangled the keys to a car in front of her. Michonne gave a nervous chuckle, taking the keys. She prayed a silent prayer that she wasn't driving a minivan. Rick gave Michonne's backside a hard smack as she turned, jostling her. Her eyes widened in disbelief staring at this playful sexy version of Rick. _She was missing out._

"Don't be too long," he said, handing her a striped robe.

"Ok."

"And go out the back door so the kids don't see you."

 _If only she knew where the back door was located. Michonne nodded, heading determinedly down the stairs. She needed to know what the hell she was doing in 2018, married to the one man she'd never stopped loving._

* * *

"Sasha!" Michonne spotted her friend over the white picket fence squaring off the big, heavily decorated yard. The back door hadn't been hard to find.

"Michonne!" Sasha greeted, waddling up to the perimeter, greeting her friend with a wide smile.

"You're pregnant!?" Michonne felt the wind being knocked out of her, taking in a well rounded Sasha.

"Ugh! Don't remind me. I got Daryl's spawn growing inside me."

Now she was being sucker punched. "Daryl? Daryl Dixon?"

"Uh yeah! That's the man I married." Sasha laughed.

"You married Daryl? Daryl Dixon!" Michonne was in a state of unbelief.

"Girl you trippin'! I told Maggie not to encourage you in her drinking shenanigans last night."

Michonne was still in utter shock. "Seriously? You married Daryl?"

"Three years and we haven't killed each other. That's a good sign."

"You two hated each other." Sasha and Daryl couldn't be in the same room for five minutes before diving head first into an argument. Was that all foreplay?

"Not anymore." Sasha patted her belly, a bright smile decorating her pretty face.

"Right... because you two have been married for… ?"

"Three years. We got married two years after you and Rick." Sasha looked confused at the look of bewilderment on Michonne's face. "Did you hit your head?"

Michonne shrugged, Sasha leaned further over the not so high fence. "Did you... smoke some weed?" she asked, her hand almost covering her mouth.

"I didn't smoke any weed!"

"Good, because your husband is the Sheriff and all."

"Rick's the sheriff?" The knowledge wasn't too surprising, but she felt jarred by the information nonetheless.

Michonne remembered Rick striving to be the sheriff deputy, but he superseded his aim. She knew Rick always had ambition and drive. She'd forgotten that about him. Rick was always resolute in the things he desired. He was his own measuring stick. He had no standards to conform to besides the ones he set for himself. He was sure. There was a part of Michonne that resented him for that.

Still, a surge of pride coursed through her. She felt happy that he was successful in his career path.

"Jesus, Michonne. No rum for you tonight. It always leaves you muddled."

"No, you misunderstood me, Sash. I meant, Rick. Is. The. Sheriff. There's no way I'd be smoking." She flipped her locs, regretting she was too hasty to think about grabbing a hat, but grateful she at least had some sense to grab her uggs. Outside was almost winter wonderland status in temperature. "Rick's the Sheriff, and I'm the…" Michonne hoped Sasha could fill in the blocks of her mysterious dream life.

"Don't tell me you two argued about that again?" Sasha's pretty brown eyes widened in concern. "I already gave you my opinion."

At a loss about what Sasha was referencing, Michonne bluffed, again. "Remind me what that was again."

Sasha shook her head, an amused smile teasing the corner of her lips. Michonne hoped she was successful at not sounding like she'd gone off the deep.

"Rick practically gives you whatever you want. Now a fashion internship is the biggest thing he could ever agree to. You should take the chance to pursue your dreams. The kids don't need you as much. You'll have lots of support. Your dreams don't have to be on hold anymore." Sasha seemed passionate about her predicament. Michonne was trying to comprehend it all. She was beginning to understand Rick was the successful one while she was the one to put her goals on pause. For family?

"Rick has always been supportive of my dreams." It wasn't a lie. That's why Michonne felt it was okay to choose Los Angeles over love.

"Exactly! So put baby number three on hold, and go do what you love."

"I just don't get why I haven't done it before." Her thoughts escaped her lips.

"Well you're the one having trouble letting go of the kids…," Sasha mentioned, throwing Michonne for a loop. Michonne cringed at the thought she could be a helicopter mom. She couldn't fathom any version of herself wanting a baby more than a career. It seemed this Michonne had her priorities twisted. If they already had three kids why did they want another one. She didn't know how she felt about being a stay at home mom while sitting on a degree in fashion design. It was another thing that scared her, to achieve a family she had to forfeit a career. There wasn't much middle ground, she couldn't see herself having both. Even if Rick was trying to give it to her.

Something always suffered.

"I'm happy Rick got what he wanted." Michonne's sentence was earnest. Being a leader was innate to his character. Protecting people was something that always rested heavily on Rick's shoulders.

"You were so proud of him when he got the gig. Rick works his ass off for this town." It was clear Sasha was giving the compliment from her heart. She was just as happy and as proud of Rick. He achieved his dreams and he didn't have to leave King county to do so. Michonne wished she had remained that obstinate in her life goals. Her bank account was full, but her home and heart felt empty. She couldn't say the dream she chased at the cost of everything else had been fulfilling for her after all.

"He's always been a good protector." She honestly wasn't surprised that Rick had excelled in the law enforcement field he loved so much. He was built for it.

"I'm glad I saw you. Can we talk about the designs for tonight. You know I think your work is amazing, but are you sure we got all the sizes right?" Michonne felt like she was dangling between two worlds, she wasn't sure which one was real or which one was fake.

"Tonight? You mean the umm... the show?" She was bluffing. What else could it possibly be?

"Yeah. Carl's school Christmas play. You're the costume director? Remember? Then you volunteered, more like bullied, me and Mags to help."

"Of course I remember, Sash. Don't panic. Everything will be fine." Michonne felt like pulling out her hair. She didn't have a clue about any play.

Sasha shrugged in resignation. Then her face morphed into open curiosity, eyeing Michonne from head to ugg boots.

"Where are you going?"

Michonne didn't want to lie, but she really didn't know where she was going. The silence between the two friends was just as sharp as the coldness swirling around them.

"Michonne, you'd tell your best friend if you smoked pot right?"

"We're still best friends?" Michonne wiped sweat from her brow despite the blast of cold that was hitting her from all sides. Living two lives was draining her energy.

"Now I know you're tripping'." Sasha play punched her over the fence. "Yes we are silly."

"I knew that Sasha. Just playing with ya!" It was comforting to know she had Sasha in this world too. Although she could do a whole lot better in keeping in contact with Sasha in her _other_ life.

"Sooo, where are you going?"

"Drug store," Michonne finally said.

"Dressed like that?" Sasha watched Michonne as though she was committing a cardinal sin.

"I'm just dashing in and out." She just needed to make sense of her curious circumstances.

"Woman! Can't you feel how cold it is out here? C'mon! Get inside!" Daryl bellowed from the gallery.

"Who are you talking to?" Sasha whipped around, facing Daryl head on. "You better take that base outta your throat, Dixon!"

"I'm sorry, baby. Don't want you and junior catchin' a cold. Mawnin' Chonne."

Daryl waved and she waved back. Sasha walked off with a promise to catch up later. Michonne watched the pair head inside their home. She headed to the grey minivan that stood in the tiled driveway, her shoulders slumped.

"Of course it's a minivan."

She tumbled the engine and backed out of the driveway. Headed nowhere in particular.

* * *

"You!" Michonne pointed an angry finger in the grinning Santa's face. She didn't even drive far on her journey heading nowhere. Her Santa was out greeting shoppers outside the Big Tree Mall. Michonne couldn't park her supermom car fast enough when she saw him.

"Merry Christmas, Michonne. You look like you could use a cup of cheer," Santa said, a mischievous smile still plastered on his jolly, old face.

"Get me my life back!"

"Or maybe a bottle of it…"

Old St. Nick rang his blaring bell, greeting a cheery family passing by. Michonne realised she looked extremely out of place in her candy cane fleece pajamas and striped robe on the busy sidewalk. For once she didn't care.

"You know what you did! Now fix things back to how it was!" she demanded, her arms folded.

"You've changed your mind?" Santa was still smiling, which irritated Michonne to no end.

"None of this is real!"

"Its as real as can be," Santa said, his timber lacking empathy. Michonne didn't care for Mr. Claus's smugness.

"I don't know who you are, but I know this can't possibly be real."

Santa zeroed in on Michonne, "This is what you wanted. This is what you wished for."

"I know what I wished for!" Her cadence was low, but swift, not wanting any passers by to hear the foreign words dripping from her lips.

Michonne held her temples in frustration. She didn't think for one minute a depressed, drunken rant would land her smack dab in an alternate universe. She was either still in a deep dream state or more hungover than she anticipated, despite not remembering her wine quota the night before.

Santa wasn't real and she didn't believe in magic, but yet here she was.

"I'm not sure what you did, but I know you did something. Your face is the last I remember before I woke up in the twilight zone!"

"This is why you should be careful about what you wish for."

"This is not my life!"

"You're right. This is the life you _could've_ had if you chose Rick instead of L.A."

"How long is this spell going to last?" She was in a Disney movie. She was definitely speaking as though she was starring in one.

"However long it takes."

"For what?"

"For you to get a taste of the life. And for you to decide if you made the right choice." Santa's cheeks were nice and rosy, his big round belly didn't look padded with pillows, either. Michonne tried to ignore it. He seemed genuine in his role as Santa. She could accept him with maybe a dose of skepticism, but if she saw Rudolph waltzing into town she was calling the cops.

"So, this is your idea of torture?" Michonne thought it was cruel to give her a taste of a life she could never have. What was the point of this 'what if' scenario if she had to walk away and return to her life of solitaire. On the other hand she was scared out of her mind at being someone's mother. She wasn't going to think about basking in the role of Rick's wife. She was going to relish in the memory of waking up to a naked Rick Grimes. Well, relishing, after the fear had somewhat dissipated.

"This is what a second chance looks like. Don't waste it." Santa waved to a little girl, still conversing with Michonne.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do here." Michonne flung her hands in the air. She was beyond irritated, beyond anxious, beyond scared.

"You'll figure it out. Last time you trusted your gut. This time let your heart lead you."

Santa was a know it all; a smug, second chance giving, bastard.

"Are those kids really ours?" Michonne's voice was shaky, crowded with emotion as she thought about faces she was yet to meet. She knew Carl's voice, but she had no idea what he looked like in this world. He was older now. He sounded so mature ushering his siblings back to their room.

"Yup. Carl, Zoe and Marley. Zoe is five. Marley's four. Carl's nine."

Santa was filling Michonne in on her own life. She felt sad there was no cognizance of her own children in her conscience. She was scared, but excitement drummed in her heart when she thought about meeting them for the first time, again.

If she was here indefinitely maybe she could make the most of it. Perhaps if she did what she was supposed to she'd wake up in her own life again like they'd shown on TV. Hopefully, she'd wake up from this dream, if it was a dream, soon enough. Michonne knew she was a trooper and she needed her wits about her to survive this wine induced, wild wishing, Christmas concoction. The only problem was she had no idea how to be someone's mother.

Michonne once battled price with three different textile suppliers in Jakarta, all at the same time. She could handle some kids. Still, she didn't know if it was wise to compare the two.

A new wave of fear buried her. "I want my life back."

"Are you sure? You seemed pretty lonely in that life. You've been granted a miracle, Michonne," Santa said, spreading his arms wide open. "Embrace it.'

"I wish I knew what I'm supposed to do here."

"For right now, I hope you know how to make pancakes."

Annoyed by Santa's nonchalance over her dilemma, Michonne did something very un-Christmas like. Something she almost regretted right away.

She punched smug Santa square in the jaw.

* * *

"You punched Santa in the face? Michonne, what's going on?" Rick's tone wasn't angry or aggressive, even though he had all right to be after the disturbing call he'd not too long received.

Michonne sat in the front of Ricks cruiser in the parking lot of the King County Sheriff's station. Rick had one hand on the steering wheel, the other on her head rest. His body was fully facing her. It felt weird being the subject of his attention again.

"I'm sorry." She had no excuse, she couldn't explain to Rick what happened because he may not comprehend it all. Needless to say the commotion she caused when the unsuspecting Kris Kringle hit the ground had been her first real misdemeanor since she became an alien.

"Talk to me, babe, what's going on?"

"Nothing. Santa said something stupid, and I punched him." Her knuckles were still cramping. The sheer look of shock on Santa's face was worth it.

Rick sighed, almost like he didn't fully believe Michonne's justification for her Christmas crime. He took her hand, rubbing his thumb against the back of her palm. Michonne forgot what Rick's touch felt like, how soothed she felt when he was this close to her.

"This isn't about the pregnancy test, is it?"

Michonne faced Rick, her gaze hurried. "What?"

"I know you were disappointed last week when you took the test. You've been very stressed out lately, with the school play, the kids... I think it's all taking a toll."

"We were trying to have another baby… ?" She spoke into the cold air in the car. Her eyes flickering with bewilderment. Sasha's story corroborated with Rick's admission. It shook Michonne how calm she felt about building a family with Rick, considering the thought never occurred to her with Mike.

"We still are." Rick brushed her soft cheeks, only now beginning to feel warm as he'd turn up the heat a few minutes ago. She and Rick seemed like a well adjusted couple. They were stable enough. There must be an abundance of love between them to be actively trying to add to their family. The notion gave Michonne pause, she felt a butterfly in her stomach. The feeling was new, but welcoming.

"I wanted Santa for the play. He said he couldn't do it." She shrugged, believing in her own lie.

"So you punched him?" Rick's eyebrows shot up, then softened towards her." Did you get him good?"

She grinned at Rick, nodding her head.

"That's my girl!" Rick hi-fived her. Michonne appreciated the levity he was bringing to the situation. She may not have gotten off with just a warning had she not been the Sheriff's wife.

"You know if you wanted a Santa all you had to do was say so. There was no need to go running off."

Rick's words struck a chord, taking her back to their last conversation before she left for Los Angeles. That's what he'd said to her then. She always felt as though he meant it, that it had come from a place where reasonable doubt didn't exist. She was a first hand witness to the pain it caused then. She couldn't bare to see it now.

"You know I wasn't running off?" She hoped her sentence could somehow be recompense for the pain she caused him,.

"I know. When you run into these kinda _thangs_ , you come to me."

Michonne adjusted to fixing her problems herself. Avoiding the disappointment borne from putting expectations on people. If there was a task she'd get it done herself.

"I'm sorry." It was all she had.

"You don't have to be. I'm here for you. Anything we do we always do it together." Rick kissed her hand, the sincerity in his tone as strong as the familiar fresh spring scent of his body wash. She felt at home knowing his taste hadn't changed. Rick had always been a creature of habit, she the free spirit.

"Together." It felt good to say. It was easy to appreciate when she'd been doing things on her own for a long time. Mike wanted her to succeed, but he had a passionate drive that often influenced their work relationship to a more competitive component rather than a complimentary one.

"Dress rehearsal is tonight at the school. Last night you said you had everything ready for the Three Wise Men. You sure you don't need anything?"

First she had been tricked by Santa, now she was dressing Jesus. Pretty soon she'd find out Tupac was alive and well in King County. Grateful for her surface conversation with Sasha about the play Michonne was going to wing it. She felt capable enough to design something adequate for a small school play production, providing she had the raw material. "I should be okay."

"Where are the kids?" She felt like her belly was full of bricks at the mention of the three minions that belonged to her. Rick must've dropped them off somewhere. They were too young to be left alone.

"I dropped them off at your parents. Zoe was screaming for her mama, Marley said pancakes on repeat for the whole ride over. And Carl said I better not come home without you." Rick laughed, a full one stretching from ear to ear, then shook his head in amusement. "I think your mom is making 'em pancakes." He checked his watch, cringing when he discovered how much time slipped by.

Michonne's expression softened to marshmallow status. She always had a unique bond with Carl, it appeared that bond only heightened with her marriage to Rick.

Her tummy rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten breakfast yet.

"Rick? Are you happy? Do we have a good life?" She needed his perspective.

His blue eyes bore into hers. Rick smiled, touching her cheeks again. "We have a great life. You've made me happy for a thousand lifetimes."

Michonne eyes grew full, Rick's eyes always told her the truth. He meant every word he said.

"And your job? Do you think you've been successful?"

Rick turned away, straightening himself in the front seat of the cruiser. "I love being sheriff, but it's not an easy job." He played with his thumb and forefinger as he spoke. A habit Michonne noticed still lingered. "But my real success is you and the kids. You four are my life, Michonne. Without you guys I'd be nothin'."

Overcome with emotion by the profound feel of the moment, Michonne reached for Rick's hand. She had been important to Mike, but the feeling of being more trophy than treasure when they were together plagued her. There was no doubt or hesitation with Rick. He was letting her know without her and the kids he deemed himself a failure. She held his hand tighter, unable to utter a word. Their silence perhaps more poignant than any words spoken.

"Have I kissed you today?" Rick said leaning in, his scent was intoxicating. Michonne felt like an addict who'd finally found a needle.

"Back at the house." She pointed at nothing in particular, bracing herself for Rick's lips on hers.

The feeling of home when Rick's pink lips descended on hers was earth shattering. Michonne found his curls, they were soft and silky to the touch. When their tongues met Michonne didn't care an iota about breathing. She could die kissing Rick. His hands lightly touched her neck, then strayed to the tips of her breast. Michonne shuddered under his ministrations.

"To be continued…," he said, breaking apart. Only because air seemed to be important to them both and they had to pick up the kids.

Rick started the engine, dropping the car into drive. "Let's go get them before they call the police." He winked at her, laughing at his own dad joke. He turned onto Munroe Road. Michonne settled into the seat, not missing a blink when Rick reached over and placed a comfortable hand on her thigh. It was clear as the soft expression on his face as he maneuvered on the busy street, how in love this version of them were. It felt more powerful, more intense, more consuming than before she left King County. She sighed in a barely audible tone. Michonne realized she didn't just miss out on a wonderful life. In choosing a career over love, she'd missed out on probably the greatest love story of her life. It was a regret she prayed she didn't have to take to her grave.

* * *

"Mama!"

They weren't completely inside the house when the youngest Grimes' girl tackled Michonne at the door like a wrestler in a ring, destined for a win.

Michonne had no alternative but to grab onto the one they called Marley in a tight hold before she capsized them both.

"Hi," she said. She couldn't remember the last time she felt the love and warmth hugging a child brought, but it was real; an intense feeling of joy and peace fell over her. She set the sweet little girl on the ground, hoping her nervous voice wouldn't betray her. She felt like a fraud.

"I missed you mommy."

Marley stared up at Michonne with eyes as blue as her daddy's, and the prettiest brown curls framing her cute, oval face. Michonne melted like a block of ice exposed to the midday sun when she took in how perfect her daughter was. She crouched down to Marley's level, touching a sprig of hair that was out of place. Tears formed in her eyes. "I'm right here," she said, receiving another innocent hug from someone who was depending on her to love her. She never felt that urge to be a mother, but Michonne could see the appeal when Marley's small hands hugged her back.

Zoe came bouncing in second, followed by Carl playing a video game. Zoe didn't hesitate, she stepped to the side of her sister and stared at Michonne with expectancy. Michonne hugged the little girl, but the shock of how similar they were in appearance made her thankful she was already close to the ground. Zoe was a darker skin tone to Marley but her face was round and full and she had her mother's eyes and nose. She was a striking four year old.

"Okay girls, give mama a break." Rick took Zoe into his arms, trying to wipe away the remnants of maple syrup from her cheeks.

Carl hugged Michonne's waist next. He did it in one quick motion, she assumed they had done the action often.

"Mom, did you really punch Santa?" Carl's blue eyes danced with intrigue, looking up at Michonne.

Carl was calling her mom, it felt so natural and common coming from his lips. Michonne held onto him tighter. She wanted to forgive herself for missing out on her favorite little guy growing up. She cherished the thought that while she adopted him, he adopted her too.

"Did grandpa tell you that?" Rick asked, now holding Marley's hand too.

Michonne placed her fingers on her lips, tilting her head to the girls. She couldn't exactly admit she accosted Santa in front of them. She touched Carl's hair, it had grown out a lot. He looked mature, no longer the little four year old boy sporting a fish bowl haircut.

Michonne couldn't believe she was in her childhood home. Decorations were not as intense as she'd grown accustomed. It felt weird knowing it was December and there were no larger than life decorations on the lawn or a Christmas tree on the roof. Her parent were always over the top at this jolly good time of the year. On any given day in December there was always too much food, over the top decorations, and not enough time to savor it all.

"I thought that was you." Liz Anthony stepped into the foyer, arms open wide, stretching towards Michonne.

Michonne's whole face lit up when she saw her mother. It had been a couple of months since she'd laid eyes on Liz Anthony. She hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go. Her job kept her busy and engaged most long weekends. Holidays usually meant more time spent at the office. There was always a deadline to meet, a client to please, or a supplier to negotiate with. Michonne wore many hats at Last Woman On Earth. Sometimes, she needed the kind of comfort only her mother could give. More tears threatened to spill on her cheeks.

"Mom…," she whispered, resting her head on her mother's shoulder like a child.

"You had your father and Rick worried sick! You know better than to run off like that."

"I'm sorry."

"She's okay, Liz." Rick said, trying to calm his concerned mother-in-law.

"Where are all the decorations? Why isn't the yard looking like the North Pole?"

Liz's eyes turned somber, a tight lip smile on her lips. "You know after your dad's heart attack he had to slow it down. Besides, you pretty much make up for it with the Christmas extravaganza you got going on at your house."

"Can't argue with you there." Rick laughed.

Liz laughed too, looking radiant in her oversized denim shirt and capri pants. Michonne knew she got her penchant for fashion from her stylish mother.

Michonne looked at Rick, who glanced at her with slight skepticism. This was something she should've known. Nothing could've prepared her for the bottomless feeling she felt in her stomach at the news of her father's heart attack. Guilt terrorized her for not being home enough. Understanding the two worlds had their place, still she knew she could've done better. The last time she spoke to her mother they had an argument, because she couldn't come home for Thanksgiving. She and Mike had pancakes and hot chocolate for Thanksgiving dinner at midnight due to work constraints. She craved her mother's sweet potato pie and macaroni and cheese casserole. She could easily see now family was more important than fashion, moreso around the holidays. She needed the free time to spend with her parents. They were the ones responsible for how far she had gotten in life.

Michonne thought things were supposed to be perfect in her dream life. She wasn't expecting any kind of suffering, or hurt, or pain in a make believe world. She debated with herself on her thoughts. There was nothing make believe about the two loving hugs she just received from her two adorable little girls.

"C'mon in the kitchen, you must be starving." There were no signs of a shift in mood in Liz's pleasant disposition. She lead the way into the kitchen. Rick followed with the girls, Michonne - Carl at her waist - followed after.

"Princess!" Raymond Anthony, respectfully called Ray, was at the round breakfast table eating orange marmalade on toast.

"Hey, Dad." Michonne tried to sound casual, but the truth was her father had aged considerably. He was still looking sharp, but his response time wasn't as brisk as she'd remembered. She hugged him tightly, a relief settled over her when Raymond hugged her back. "Dad, I'm so sorry…" she sounded choked, apologizing for mistakes that were a world away.

"What did Santa ever do to you?" Brown eyes that mirrored hers stared back at her. Marley crawled into her grandfather's lap like a puppy. The pair seemed close.

"We had a disagreement of sorts," Michonne shrugged, still not wanting to discuss the incident in front of the kids. She could tell Carl's curiosity was getting the best of him.

"You hungry, babygirl?" her father asked. Michonne's heart constructed at the sound of his voice. She had missed her folks more than she realized.

Rick was already pulling out a chair for Michonne to sit at the table.

Liz, a retired neonatal nurse was fiddling with the remaining pancakes and some bacon that had recently come off the grill. She set a stack in front of her daughter and Rick. Michonne's mouth watered, smelling the vanilla and cinnamon spices her mom favored. Zoe took up residence in Michonne's lap, waiting patiently for pancake bites from Michonne's fork. The position felt natural and awkward for her. Her heart felt tight, she felt ambushed by the sudden burst of affection she felt for the little girl. She wasn't ready for it.

"Mom, don't forget you promised to help me with my lines." Carl said, eating a fourth pancake unashamedly.

"And mommy promised me, and Zoe that we'd make cookies today!"

"I did, didn't I, Marley?" She didn't know where to begin with cookie making. There was no way she could break a promise to her baby girl.

Marley's mouth formed a pout, she stared at her mother. "You never call me, Marley!"

Remembering bits of pieces of her morning, Michonne touched the girls cheek. "I'm sorry Tinkerbell… Mommy's a little tired. As soon as we get home we'll make cookies okay." She wasn't sure how she knew which nickname belonged to who, but she was grateful to the Three Wise Men, the Grinch or Frosty or whoever deserved her thanks.

Michonne gave a sigh of relief when Marley's frown turned upside down.

"Still can't believe you're Joseph." Rick teased his son.

Michonne nodded to the kids. As a mother she had so many things to remember. She didn't know how she and Rick managed a household with three demanding children. The chatter around the table continued, flowing from the rehearsal later on that day to Doc McStuffins stories to why Baby Shark seemed to be the 'it' thing these days. She couldn't help but give a hearty laugh to the comical content of the conversation. Zoe and Marley were two precious girls. She couldn't get over their adorableness. Carl was quite intelligent, she just wanted to take him in her arms and keep him there forever.

Rick rubbed Michonne's shoulder, keeping an eye on Marley who had a knack for getting into mischief without much effort. Michonne marvelled how affectionate they were as a family.

"You alright?" Rick asked, sensing some unease in her expression.

Michonne leaned into Rick's touch. She wished she could explain the phenomenon taking place in her heart. Where it was empty before it was overflowing now. She knew what had been lacking in her life; it was the love of a family, and that reassuring feeling of home. Something Mike couldn't give her. It frightened her that she was already getting attached to this life despite her earlier reticence to understand it. As she cut the pancakes into smaller sizes for Zoe to eat she realized how easy she could get used to things here.

"I'm good," she finally answered.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback on this one guys! I always look forward to it! Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates the holiday! I hope you enjoy the update!**

 **Sophia**

* * *

"Like mother, like son…," Maggie laughed, still reeling over the debacle that was The King County, middle school Christmas play.

Michonne glared at Maggie, stifling a laugh at the chaos that occurred from Carl's shocking behavior. Everything seemed to take place in slow motion; one minute Carl was being a devoted Joseph on stage, looking down somewhat adoringly at the fake baby Jesus, then things took a turn for the worst. Santa appeared - bell ringing, eye winking, make your wishes come true Santa - to the back of the auditorium, almost out of nowhere. Michonne and Carl spotted the tall, jolly, rosy-cheeked Santa first. Carl was enthralled from the stage by the miracle working Santa's unplanned presence.

Santa waved at Carl, then winked at Michonne, bringing chaos in true alternate universe fashion. Carl stumbled from his position on stage, hitting Ron by accident. Ron was a known hot head, so it wasn't a huge surprise when Ron shoved Carl in ten year old retaliation. In the next breath, her usual cool cucumber Carl clobbered the frankincense bringing, Wise Man, played by a now flummoxed Ron Anderson.

A fracas ensued.

Michonne was still in disbelief. The play was at its end, but the dismantled props and disarray of characters certainly brought the curtain down.

Rick had rushed in first, grabbing Carl by his waist, toting him out of the parent filled hall like he was a sack of potatoes.

"I honestly don't know what got into him!" Michonne said, assisting Maggie and Sasha with packing up the props and costumes. It was a lie, she knew exactly what got into Carl; it was sorcery Santa, one should not be held responsible for one's actions when Kris Kringle crossed their path. Continuing to neatly fold the garments Michonne shook her head at how far the pleasant night had escalated. She received plenty of praise for her last minute costuming, but the approval had been overshadowed by the commotion.

All she cared about was that Carl was okay. An instinct - she didn't know if it was maternal - but something strong and intense had her on high alert, wanting nothing more than to ensure Carl's safety. It was almost a reflex. She was grateful Rick got to him first, although there was much to say about the pensive gaze on Rick's face, rivaled only by the intrepid stare of their son.

Michonne shouldered the blame for Carl's little row. After all Carl was aware that she punched that Santa man in his face. Without an explanation, her fearless Carl took pattern after her. As soon as Michonne wrapped up the cleaning she would head outside to meet with Rick and the rest of their family.

"I can't wait to hear the story. I'm not over the way the Angel's face looked right before Ron dropped on him. Poor guy." Sasha rubbed her big belly, trying to control the jiggle from her laughter.

"Y'all are laughing now, but did you see the look on Rick's face when he grabbed Carl off that stage? What am I gonna tell the girls?" Michonne sealed four large boxes, labelling them _storage_ and packing them neatly to the side.

Michonne, Maggie and Sasha worked swiftly as a team, clearing the makeshift backstage in no time.

Maggie let out a yawn, her hand reached up to cover her mouth, tired from spending half of the day at the school, prepping for the highly anticipated show. The shimmer of her intricate gold bracelet dangling from her friend's wrist, caught Michonne's attention.

"Maggie? Is that a…," She pointed to the hand band instead, unable to finish her sentence. She wasn't sure how or why her two worlds were crossing.

"Yeah. It's from the Rosita Love Collection. Glenn got it for me for our anniversary last week. Isn't it beautiful?" Maggie thrust her wrist out for Sasha and Michonne to inspect closer.

"It's gorgeous Mags! I wish Daryl would get me one of those, but he ain't spending his hard earned money on that."

They all laughed knowing how much Daryl loved to pinch pennies.

"The Rosita Love Collection's a chic line. It's a classy look." Michonne would know, she had at least three of the charms back in her old life. Not to mention, Rosita had run the idea of the sleek, distinct bracelet with selective charms by her first, when it was just a vision. Seeing something familiar saddened Michonne, reminding her that the life she was presently living was temporary despite how permanent her feelings had grown for Rick and their children. She went to bed the night before hoping and praying when she opened her eyes the following day she would see Rick sleeping on his stomach right next to her.

Marley had gotten to her first, up before the crack of dawn because of a nightmare. Michonne felt thrilled at the prospect that the little girl, so much like her daddy, wanted her mother alone when she'd woken up. Michonne sat in the rocking chair in the girl's princess motif room with Marley in her lap. The back and forth motion brought comfort to them both, pretty soon her baby girl had returned to dreamland.

Michonne had been to a lot of places, experienced a plethora of new and exciting cultures and people, but for her, there was no greater experience than a child falling asleep in the safety of her arms.

She didn't realize she drifted off so far, Sasha and Maggie were in the middle of conversation. She caught on they were still speaking about Rosita.

"I saw an interview on Oprah the other day with Miss Espinosa. Did you know she started her line because of a heartbreak?" Sasha proffered.

"I heard something like that." Maggie responded.

"Yeah, the guy she was with, I think his name is Abraham Ford, broke up with her for another woman. She said he actually told her he thought she was the last woman on earth, and then he found out she wasn't." Sasha shook her head, amazed at how callous some men could be.

If Daryl ever pulled that Young and the Restless move on her, he wouldn't be alive to tell the tale.

"That douchebag! Good for her for using that hurt to make some money!" Maggie chimed in, counting scarves.

Michonne knew the story well, Rosita opted to turn her pain into profit. It had worked out for her so far.

"Yeah. Good for her." Michonne added, trying to show her interest without sounding too eager.

"She said she doesn't need to conform to," Sasha formed her fingers into air quotes before she continued. "Societal norms, and be the standard wife and mother to a husband and 2.5 kids." Sasha concluded with a roll of her eyes.

"Well where would she find the time? She has herself a conglomerate," Maggie said, neither agreeing or disagreeing with anything.

"Not every woman is supposed to be a wife and mother." Michonne wasn't certain why she felt so defensive of the subject. Her beliefs on the topic at hand had been threatened the moment she stepped foot in this world.

"I'm not saying no. But it sure seems like a lonely life to live." Sasha shrugged, closing off another box of manger props.

"Maybe the money makes up for it?" Michonne knew that was the biggest lie. The money aspect of her success in no way made up for the love and warmth she'd discovered over the past two days.

Maggie and Sasha both stared at her derisively.

"Last time I checked you couldn't cuddle your bank account when the nights were cold. I'm sure at the end of the day she's lonely."

"Can you imagine being that rich, but still so lonely? What's the point of making all that money if there's no one to share it with?"

Maggie and Sasha continued their inference on Rosita's life.

Michonne wanted to interject, but she didn't have anything of substance to add. She felt as though her two closest friends were inadvertently talking about her. Maybe her metric for success had been skewered from the get go. As flourishing as her work life felt, she was lonely. She'd given herself a discounted kind of love with Mike; nothing was an issue between them, so nothing was worth fighting for. She'd been given a taste of what _living_ felt like. Her appetite for it was growing .

She, Zoe and Marley had burnt Christmas cookies yesterday; Rick and Carl ate them all, telling the girls how delicious they were. Michonne laughed until breathing became a task. The whole family went ice skating later in the evening, then headed to dress rehearsals. In her five years at L.W.O.E Michonne had visited most of the major cities in the world, but she couldn't recall a more memorable day than the one she shared with Zoe, Carl, Marley and Rick. In some vain Human Resource tactic the company tried to promote work life balance, but it was a complicated thing to achieve when there was no life to balance off with her work. When the time came to step away from this _dream life_ she wasn't sure if she could let it go.

"It's lonely at the top." Maggie finished stacking the boxes in neat order. Michonne had been on pause, present but not quite all there for the delicate conversation.

She wondered if that's how her two friends viewed _real life Michonne_? Accomplished, but alone. While she was the one with the expensive city apartment, with a fancy job, and money at her disposal they were the wealthy ones, because of a little thing called _love._

"I mean, Daryl works on my last good nerve," Sasha rubbed her beach ball belly in a circular motion. "But I'd take his mumbling ass any day over a lonely, rich life. I love that man, and what we're trying to build."

"I can't see my life without Glenn. Even on the bad days he's my rock." Maggie tucked her shoulder length hair behind her ear, taking a seat on one of the boxes.

"I don't know what I'd do if I woke up one day and Rick and the kids were gone." Michonne was beginning to scare herself into a panic. She was wrong for walking away from Rick all those years ago. She was wrong for not trying harder, not trying to make an effort to have the whole dream. Maggie and Sasha were two working women; successful in their own right, balancing home and family. She was certain there were tough days, but the pair seemed happy with their lives. It wasn't a contented kind of happiness either, it was a simplistic joy illuminating their pretty faces, knowing they loved and were being loved in return.

Michonne's eyes began to water, feeling like her borrowed time was running out.

"I umm... better go get Rick and the kids." Michonne set aside a string of colored lights. "You guys did great tonight." She was grateful for the support, but now jealousy gnawed at her insides. She had no one to blame but herself for the choices she made in her life.

"I think the show was a success, even if Joseph punched a wise man," Sasha said.

The joke wasn't going to _not be_ funny any time soon. They all shared another laugh. Michonne's laugh wasn't entirely genuine. For once she had something she'd been longing for, but the conversation with Sasha and Maggie reminded her that the life she was now living didn't belong to her.

* * *

Michonne was exhausted by the time she and her clan walked through the front door. Rick carried a sleeping Marley straight to her bed. Zoe was in her arms asking rapid fire questions about arbitrary things; Michonne didn't have the energy to keep up. Michonne set her daughter on the couch next to her brother.

She padded to the large, pristine kitchen giving into Carl's request for chocolate milk. By the time Rick jogged downstairs the non-sleeping kids had joined Michonne in the kitchen. The three of them had a glass of chocolate milk in their hands, and milk mustaches over their lips. Zoe was the only one with a guilty look on her face when she spotted her daddy.

Rick leaned into Michonne, his blue eyes boring into her. "You gave Snuggy Buggy chocolate milk at…" He glimpsed his watch. "Eight-thirty?" Rick stared at her, incredulity all over his face.

Michonne had an err in judgement. She didn't think of the repercussions of the highly sweet drink on their five year old. No wonder Zoe looked like the cat that ate the canary when Michonne poured her a glass.

"It's been a night. I think we can cut her some slack."

"You've been goin' very easy on them over the past few days." Rick whispered, pouring himself a glass of the chocolate concoction.

"You think so?" Michonne shrugged, uncertain of the standard she had before. She hope she wasn't rigid with the children. She learnt she couldn't approach the kids with the same bold attitude she used for work.

"Especially with how much you negotiated with me to have..." Rick pointed his chin in Carl's direction. "his sentence reduced from three weeks to two weeks for hitting Ron."

Carl and Zoe were still discussing the excitement from the play at the round breakfast table, oblivious to the conversation their parents were having.

"I told you why," she said, losing her train of thought when Rick snuck up behind her, sliding his strong arms around her tiny waist. He was irresistible in his blue plaid shirt and khaki slacks.

Rick nuzzled her, inhaling the coconut scented body wash that lingered on her skin.

"Yeah, you felt guilty because you hit Santa. And Carl followed in your footsteps."

Carl filled in the gap for them; Ron shoved him back when he stumbled, making fun of Carl's belief in Santa. He taunted Carl mercilessly, quickly. Carl couldn't take the heckling anymore and fought back. There was no justifiable excuse, Michonne knew Carl was keenly aware she'd punch Santa the day before. After a long lecture in the car they decided to go easy on him. Well, she decided. Rick reluctantly complied.

Rick informed her afterwards Ron's parents were going through a bitter divorce. The kid's anger was misplaced, but not entirely surprising. He could empathize to a point with the sudden disinterest in Christmas. He just chose the wrong Grimes to ease his frustration on. Ron was being held accountable for his actions by the school, and his parents. So was Carl, but to a much lesser extent..

"I'm usually the hot head in the family. Now my wife and The Boy got anger issues."

Michonne laughed, glad that there was still an air of joy in their home. "Maybe we need an intervention."

"Maybe you need some punishment," he whispered, for her ears only. She tried to not focus on the slight hardness she felt pressing against her ass.

"You gonna ground me Rick?" She looked back at him, giving him a flirtatious gaze.

"Nah. I was thinking more along the lines of a spankin'." His tone was still hushed. Carl and Zoe had taken an interest in Carl's fidget spinner. Michonne appreciated the time she got to flirt with Rick like she was an eager teenager.

She leaned fully into him, unashamed of how much she loved how affectionate they were as a couple. That hadn't changed.

"Mom?" Carl called, timidly looking up from his gadget. Marley shifted her attention too.

"Am I still getting presents for Christmas this year?" Carl accepted the severity of his actions even amidst his parents leniency, but there were more critical things at stake in his very near future.

"Should've thought about that before you decided to be a boxer." Rick chimed in, still a wall to Michonne's back behind the counter. Rick was obviously not over it. "People who are grounded don't usually get christmas gift privileges." Rick was enjoying teasing their son.

Michonne nudged him with her elbow. Carl's expression had grown somber. Zoe sipped her milk like the little lady she was.

"What was on your list anyways?" Michonne asked. She honestly didn't know, even though she was supposed to.

"I wanted a scooter."

"So you wanna get hit by a car for Christmas?" Rick said, his tone nonchalant.

Michonne sent a scowl Rick's way for continuing to make fun of her baby boy.

He leaned into Michonne's ear. "The boy walks as though he's got one eye, what's gonna happen to him on a scooter?"

She wasn't certain if the scooter had already been purchased or not. With two more days until Christmas she didn't think this extremely organized mom version of herself hadn't already purchased her kids' Christmas gifts.

"Mom!" Carl wined, hoping Michonne would somehow intervene on his behalf, taking up his plight.

"Your dad and I are gonna discuss it sweetie."

"But uhh… do you have anything else in mind?" Michonne wanted to ease him into a plan B. She retrieved some apples and grapes from the stainless steel fridge, sliced up the fruit and divided it for the kids. Zoe dived in as though she hadn't been fed for years, swinging her short feet from the cedar brown chair.

"What's Christmas without presents,?" Carl said, his eyes shining with disappointment.

"Christmas isn't so much about receiving as it is about giving okay?" Michonne walked towards Carl, brushing his dark brown hair, giving him a half hug. She wanted to capture this almost grown up version of Carl in her memory.

She turned to Zoe, "Buggy why do we celebrate Christmas?" The precious little girl looked so much like Michonne, she was curious if she thought like her too.

Zoe's brown eyes opened wide in a caught off guard look. She set her glass down and pondered the question for a few beats.

"Jesus Christ, I should know this!" Zoe slapped her forehead, her dramatic antics so much more like Rick and Carl than it was Michonne.

Michonne burst out into a fit of giggles. Amazed at the captivating personalities each of the kids owned. They were three unique human beings. Michonne couldn't have been prouder of her and Rick's designs.

"It's Jesus's birthday Zoe Zoe," Carl chimed in.

"Yess!" Zoe's hand shot up in the air as though she'd won a prize.

"And Jesus and Santa work together to bring all the children who've been good," she shot a scolding, lingering eye at her brother before continuing her explanation. "Plenty of presents on Christmas morning! Right daddy?"

"Umm, Zoe Zoe I don't think that's how it works." Rick tried and failed at stifling his laugh.

"Does Jesus Still live in Canada mommy?" Zoe asked, apropos to nothing they'd been talking about.

"Jesus lives in heaven. Santa lives in the North Pole." Michonne couldn't believe the thread of conversation, or the fact that after thirty one years of doubting the gift-giving man's existence, she was now a damn believer.

"Okay, kiddo. Time for bed. You too, Carl." Rick rounded up the troops after all of them had released a yawn in domino effect.

Zoe got up from her seat, still looking adorable in her frilly pink frock, her curls still looking fresh and cute. Michonne deduced she and Rick made some incredibly good looking little people. She was curious to know what a baby boy sharing both of their features would look like.

"Mommy. I want snuggles." Zoe said to her, at the foot of the staircase.

Rick who was already moving towards their munchkin, took two step backwards throwing his hands in the air as an act of surrender to Zoe's special, snuggle request.

Michonne was thrilled at being wanted. Rick seemed to be the parent who did the whole night time routine most nights, while she ran the gamut on morning preparations.

She was irreplaceable to Rosita, but in the event something happened and Michonne couldn't fulfill her duties any more, she'd be switched out, probably for a new and improved model. However, she knew that she was the only one capable of loving Marley, Zoe, Carl and Rick the right way.

She looked around her home; the blue and silver Christmas tree decorations were beautiful and dazzling, it's twinkling lights brightening the living room. There was no fireplace to produce warmth, but she had a _chestnuts roasting on an open fire_ scented candle in every room. It's toasty scent making her giddy with happiness. The bright Caribbean poinsettias lined the counter top and the mantle in the living room, making the living spaces look festive, but still cosy. Michonne loved her home. She loved Christmas, which in itself was her personal Christmas miracle.

"Babe. You alright?" Rick asked, touching her shoulder.

She nodded, not realizing she'd gone off in a daze.

"I'm still with you." Michonne gave Rick a big smile, then reached for her daughter's hand, to take her to bed.

"Ok. You guys head on up. I'll lock up." Rick moved to clear the table.

* * *

By the time Michonne got Carl and Zoe down it was almost ten o'clock. Rick was already in bed, his iPad commanding his attention. Michonne assumed he was clearing emails.

He placed the tablet on the night table when she entered their room. "They're asleep?"

"Finally. I'm so tired." She was going to ask how did she do this everyday, but thought better of it. Who was she going to ask? Herself?

"We had a day."

"You're telling me," Michonne said, taking her place on the bed next to Rick. Being so close physically to him again was doing a number on her body. It seemed whenever he was within her radius, her body was on high alert.

"Why are you so far away?" Rick asked, tugging her to the middle of the large bed.

"No reason," she lied. Truth was she wanted to jump his bones, but she was scared that intimacy would somehow break the spell of this dream life. At least that was the lie she told herself.

"Since when do you sleep with so much clothes on? You expectin' a blizzard under the covers?" Rick asked, amusement playing on his handsome face.

Michonne would've laughed too if she saw someone wearing what she was wearing for bed.

"I think I'm coming down with something. I'm cold." She wished _I'm Cold_ was code for _please dick me down into next Tuesday._

"Why didn't you say somethin' before." Rick was already off the bed, moving into action to assist her in any way he could.

"No. No! I'm fine. Just come sit with me." Michonne tapped the empty space beside her, happy when Rick filled the spot.

Rick held her hand and kissed the back of her palm.

"I've been meaning to tell you all night, but we got distracted. What you did tonight with the costumes… Michonne you did an amazing job. You're so talented."

She sat up, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

"Thank you, Rick. That means so much coming from you."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're wasting your talent.'

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you should be out there doin' your thing. I know you'd be happy. I know we discussed you doing another internship for a fashion house in Georgia, but you never quite gave me an answer. I don't want you to think we're holding you back."

Michonne touched Rick's face, she knew what was on the other side of that success. It was a lonely life with no one genuine to share it with.

"My place is here. With you. With those three beautiful kids of ours." Her eyes were as full as her heart. She had never been so honest about something in her life.

"But I know designing, and all that stuff you're so good at, makes you happy."

"You make me happy Rick. I love you," she said. She didn't want to think about choosing again. Regardless of the fact that if she had to, she'd choose Rick every time if given the chance again.

"I know you do. But can we discuss this again soon. I know we've been plannin' on Grimes number four, but we can hold off." He held her cheeks, ensuring she was giving him her undivided attention. "I really feel like now is your time."

"Yes. We can discuss it after Christmas. Deal?"

For now she just wanted to snuggle in his embrace until she fell asleep. Maybe she'd be still here at that time. Maybe if she didn't choose she could stay with her family forever.

She never wanted the dream, or whatever it was she was experiencing, to end.

"Deal." He kissed her cheek, as they found a comfy position. Rick spooned Michonne, pulling the blanket over them as he basked in her warmth.

* * *

"Michonne."

Someone was nudging her awake, but Michonne was too tired to open her eyes.

Rick was the culprit. He touched her cheeks, then he gave her shoulders a light shake. "Babe. Wake up."

Michonne's eyes opened to a slit. Her husband looked like he had gotten a full night's rest, while she felt like she had just closed her eyes to sleep only a few minutes ago.

"Is everything okay? The kids?"

She assumed the house was on fire. Or one of the kids had a nightmare or some other crisis was occurring. It was the only logical explanation for why Rick was waking her up now. The sun wasn't even up yet.

"Everyone's fine. It's midnight."

Michonne stretched for her phone to check the time. "Yes. Yes it is."

With eyes closed, her head dropped back on the pillow, causing Rick to laugh.

He nudged her again. "C'mon, put your robe on. Everything's ready and waiting downstairs."

"What?"

"C'mon." Rick held his hand out to her, his other hand dangled her purple robe in front of her.

Something was up, but she didn't know what. All Michonne knew was she was exhausted from the full day she'd spent with the three new loves of her life.

To commence the day, Marley had a mini meltdown after breakfast; her favorite pair of shoes were missing. Michonne suggested another pair, causing the four year old to breakdown in a headache inducing, crying fest.

Michonne, Carl and Zoe were on all fours in the girls' bedroom searching for the elusive pink sneakers. Carl found the prized possession in the laundry basket. With that crisis nipped, they started their day. They spent a few hours at the mall; shopping for presents and clothes for the kids. Parking had been a nightmare with just two days before Christmas.

Zoe had a doctor's appointment soon after, followed by Carl who had a gift exchange for his baseball club. After a busy, scheduled day, they rushed home to get ready to have dinner at Rick's parents' house.

When they got home that evening, Rick had taken over, proving to her they truly made a good team. He wanted her to relax, but there was laundry to fold, toys to pack away and a bathroom that wasn't going to clean itself.

She loved every minute of it. It was an enjoyable day, but Michonne just wanted to sleep for more than a few hours now that she actually could.

Rick's sea blue eyes courted her, assisting her in crawling off the bed. Michonne slipped her robe on, then Rick made sure she put on her bedroom slippers too.

They held hands, walking down the stairs in silence. The house was quiet, which in itself was weird for Michonne to experience, when all she knew since she'd been there was noise and chaos, but the good kind.

"Rick. Where are we going?" she asked, just as they stepped of the back porch, facing the back yard.

What she saw there, stupefied her.

"Oh my God Rick! This is beautiful."

"You have the same reaction every time. Like we haven't been doing this for years."

She didn't know what _this_ he was referring to, but there were Christmas lights draped over the not so tall trees lining the fence. There were lit candles around a checkered cloth laying on the well manicured grass, a huge woven picnic basket next to it. She peeked a bottle of wine sticking out at the sides.

It was red.

The sky was the clearest she'd ever seen it, the silvery moonlight beamed down on them, as if it had been tasked with shining a little extra on this night in particular.

"Every year you act the same way. Are you really that surprised? It's December. We do a Midnight, Moonlight Picnic every year."

Rick led her to the blanket, it was a little nippy outside, but she was too romanticized to care. She found her spot between his legs. The eave of the porch gave them adequate protection from the slight chill.

"It always takes my breath away." She feigned knowledge of the tradition. The idea of a midnight, moonlight picnic with Rick still had her on a high. Romance with Mike was non - existent, especially as they both spent a lot of late hours at work.

Mike's version of an intimate evening was the two of them in his expensive apartment, eating take out in bed, eyes glued to their laptops with some Barry Manilow playing in the background.

She despised Barry Manilow.

Rick took the lid off the basket, revealing some of her favorite things to eat; chicken kebabs, marshmallows, chocolate cake, fruit and some kind of quiche.

"Thank you, Rick." Michonne felt cherished.

"You're welcome baby. You warm enough? Need me to go grab one of my sweaters? Or a blanket?"

She shook her head. "Why don't you warm me up?"

Rick did as she requested. Their bodies were pressed together while she poured them each a glass of wine.

"Rick?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you happy? With the way your life turned out?"

"That's the second time you've asked me that this week. My answer hasn't changed. Yes. We have an amazing life. We may be sleep deprived, and probably long overdue for a vacation, but I wouldn't trade any of the hectic mornings or the late nights for anythin'."

Michonne leaned into Rick's warm embrace, feeling a lot more relaxed by his response than she expected.

"What about you?"

"Me?" She wasn't expecting the question to be reciprocated.

"Yeah, you."

She paused, thinking over the past few days, how special she felt being a part of this world. She took pleasure in morning cuddles and night time baths. She basked in the comedy behind burnt cookies and Christmas plays. She thoroughly enjoyed being called _mommy_ by three of the most wonderful children she'd ever met. Her glowing accreditation was wrapped up in the man called Rick Grimes; building a life with him was the type of fulfillment she'd been looking for. Despite working assiduously for L.W.O.E over the years it was a feeling she never quite got a fair grasp of. A few days with Rick and their children and the feeling came to her in droves.

She'd found the extraordinary in the ordinary.

"Yes, Rick I'm happy."

"To think we almost lost out on all of this. Aren't you glad we fought for what we wanted?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that night when you said you were going to L.A…" Rick's words dropped off, he held her tighter.

Michonne had no clue on how the whole L.A debacle ended in this universe. She'd like to think they did put up a fight, more fight than the last time. Especially on her end.

"Tell me the story." She prodded him, dying to know how she came about choosing Rick.

"You know the story," he said, kissing her temple.

"Yeah, but I love when you tell it."

She shared a bite of the green, juicy apple with him, waiting, hoping he continued enlightening her.

"Alright. When you told me about the internship, I told you I had planned to ask you to marry me. I think you thought I was bluffing."

So, those series of events hadn't changed its course.

"But you weren't…," she said, as if she knew what happened next.

"I wasn't. I upped the stakes. Pulled the ring out of my pocket. But you're as stubborn as a mule. Told me don't make you choose."

"What happened next?" She took herself out of the moment for a second or two, curious about the catalyst for her return.

"I told you, you didn't have to choose. That we could have both. You could go chase your dreams without letting go of _ours."_

 _We could have both._ Why did the possibility of that happening in her real life make her feel so hopeful?

"And then what?"

She was like Zoe now, asking questions without hesitation.

"Then you left for Los Angeles," he took her left hand in his, touching the gold band on her finger. "With my ring on your finger. It was a hard year. But with a lot of compromise and frequent flyer miles, we made it work. We fought for the dream."

"And here we are."

"And here we are." Rick echoed her sentence. "So to commemorate the night I asked you to be my wife, and to somehow dim the sadness that on that very same day you left me, we started doin' midnight picnics, but only when the moon is clear." He looked up at the black carpet in the sky, appreciating how big and beautiful the moon looked from their tucked away part of the backyard.

"I came back when my internship ended," she surmised. She never accepted the job with Rosita. She placed more importance on Rick, and what they were trying to build.

"Yeah. You did." Given the timeline and the ages of Zoe and Marley, they would've gotten married soon after her return.

"Who would've thought we would be married two months after you came back."

Rick touched her tummy, bringing their bodies closer together.

"Then Zoe was on her way." She knew that much after doing a quick calculation in her head.

"Yeah. I've never seen you more happy than when you shared the news."

"That's a great story."

Mike didn't do much of anything when she told him about London, which was a good precursor to how much her presence was a present to him. She was an accessory to him, not so much a necessity. With Rick she was a priority, always had been, always would be. She was confident about that.

Mike was good looking, debonair and quite the expert in his field, but Michonne wouldn't trade Rick Grimes for all the Mike Jones' in the world. She knew where her heart belonged now, and who it belonged to. She just needed to find a way to make it fit.

"There's just one thing..."

Michonne liked the way Rick's cadence dipped when he pronounced certain words. It made him sound so much sexier.

"What's that?"

"You can still have both dreams. We can. The kids and I aren't goin' anywhere. I know things happened kinda fast once you got back, but we're all settled now. You have to figure out what you want for you now."

Rick's advice threw her, was he giving her advice for now or _then?_ Why did his wisdom make her feel so gloomy?

Michonne nodded her head, her heart felt like it was making its way up her throat, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.

Perhaps it was the quiche. If only there was a Prilosec OTC for aches of _the_ heart too.

"Michonne look at me…" Rick held her chin, locking onto her dark brown eyes, sparkling under the Christmas lights. "I love you. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy." She was more happy than she'd ever been in years.

Rick laughed, his body shaking from joy when he did.

"Okay, happier."

"I love being a mom." Those were five words Michonne never thought she'd utter, but it was a true sentiment. "I love being your wife."

"I know." Rick kissed her. The midnight kiss moved from a few pecks on her lips to a passionate one that left the two of them breathless.

"I hear every word you're saying. I didn't think it was possible to do both Rick. But knowing it's something you want for me too gives me courage." She leaned into him again, this time his body wash infiltrated her nostrils, making her want to return to their room.

"I'm with you, whatever you decide."

"How'd I get so lucky finding you?" she breathed out.

"I'm the lucky one."

Rick?"

"Mmm?"

"Promise me you'll tell me this story every year we do this." She never wanted to forget this version of their union. As much as she prayed her stay in this other dimension of her life was a permanent one, she wanted something to hold onto when she returned to her solitary life.

"I promise."

Tomorrow she'd go find Time Machine Santa again, she had some bargaining to do. There was no way she could leave this life now.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Happy New Year to you guys! I wish you all a lot of light and love for 2019. I'm so appreciative of your tremendous support of my work. It really makes me happy. Only** **one more chapter to bring this one to a conclusion. I had soooo much fun writing this story! I love your reviews and can't wait to hear what you guys think of the update.**

 **However you ring in the New Year, please by safe and enjoy!**

 **Sophia**

* * *

"We need to talk!"

Santa wasn't waiting for Michonne to finish her tirade. He held up his two hands in front of him; a protective gesture from her expected ire.

"You're back," Santa said, talking through the bars his hands created. Michonne surveyed the busy Mall entrance. Her face burned with the Christmas Eve coldness that descended on King County before dawn broke. She wondered if anybody would notice if she kidnapped Santa for a few minutes - just to talk.

"You can take your hands down, I'm not here to fight you. In fact I brought you this."

With a smile she handed a black thermos to the man dressed in his usual red and white suit and black boots. His Santa get up always looked pristine and original, as though it came directly from the North Pole Macy's.

"This is for me?" His gaze was incredulous.

"It's cider." Michonne hoped her gesture would be well received.

"Any chance this cider is laced with cyanide?"

Michonne wanted to laugh, but the serious untrusting look on the man's face deterred her.

"If I wanted to kill you, there are less risky ways. I thought you could use something to drink being out here all day, greeting smile after smile," she added with a wide, innocent smile of her own.

"Well, this is nice of you."

The tip of Santa's straight nose was red from the coldness. Michonne, too felt a chill beneath her layered clothes.

"Don't think cyanide is your style anyway. You look like the type of woman that'd kill a man slowly, maybe with a knife or a sword."

"Full of jokes today, huh?" Michonne looked around the grounds, people were busy shopping, sharing moments with their families. Before the thought slipped away, and she lost her momentum, she tugged Santa's sleeve, yanking him to where her car was parked, just beyond the corner.

"Where are you taking me?!" Santa questioned.

Michonne held the passenger door of her gray minivan open. "Get in."

She hustled to her side, glad she was able to shut the door, keeping the blistering cold out.

"You know, kidnapping Santa on Christmas Eve is probably a felony."

"Enough with the games. I need to talk to you about my life, now." Michonne let out a breathe. "I thought about the whole thing and I've come up with a solution to our quandary."

"Our?" Santa stared at her, his voice oozing cynicism.

Michonne shot him back a look that could easily be interpreted as threatening.

Old St. Nick. cleared his throat. "I'm listening."

"I've already learned my lesson. So there's no need for me to go back to my life. I can stay here."

"Michonne,..."

She held up her hands, preventing Santa from continuing with what he was about to say. "Hear me out... I made a bad choice by staying in L.A. I turned my back on love. Real love, and it changed me. But you don't have to send me back. I understood what you were trying to show me."

Santa shook his head, his blue eyes downcast. "Michonne, that's not how these things work. I can't just snap my fingers and make you stay here. I don't have that kind of power."

"Well, call someone who does!"

Mr. Claus folded his arms, and peered at Michonne, sarcasm moulding his face. "Like. Who?"

Frustrated beyond reason, Michonne threw her arms up. "I don't know! The tooth fairy? The genie from Aladdin! I don't care. Find someone..." Michonne broke her rant, the possibility of leaving her dream life hit her square in her chest. "Just don't send me back... there's ... there's nothing waiting for me in my old life."

"I'm sorry you feel like this, but this was temporary right from the start."

She shook her head. "No! No! At the beginning you said, the last time I went with my gut, but that I should lead with my heart this time. My heart is leading me. I love them. All of them. Rick, our son, our daughters. They need me!" she pleaded, feeling sick at the thought of never seeing her family's faces again.

Michonne needed them as much as they needed her, if not a little bit more.

"Have you figured out what you want for your life?"

Michonne's face whipped around to face her reluctant acquaintance again. He was regurgitating what Rick said the night before when they were having their moonlight picnic. Was Santa there too? Just like he was there at Carl's school play.

That surreptitious jackass! "So you were there too!?"

"Answer the question. Have you?" surreptitious Santa questioned.

Michonne gripped the steering wheel even though the car was in park, needing to grip something in her hands in lieu of Santa's neck.

She knew Rick would be up soon, she needed to get back. Her family slept in late during the holidays, it was working in her favor.

"I have," she said, her tone resolute.

"What would you have done differently?"

"I would've taken Rick's proposal talk seriously. I would've said yes if he asked. I would've come home after the internship. I'm proud of my career and all that I've accomplished, but my apartment is empty at the end of the day. So is my heart." Tears slid down her cheeks, her ledger wasn't a balanced one. Her success felt like a liability when measured next to the assets of love. She wanted to bring everything into balance. At least try to.

"I'm glad you learned something on this journey. Sometimes we get so hung up on the idea of success we forget the true meaning behind it. It's more than how much money you make, it's about feeling accomplished in all the important areas of your life."

"I know that now." Michonne nodded her head solemnly. "I know that now."

Michonne knew everything he said was true.

"Now it's Christmas Eve. Go spend it with your family and friends." Santa shifted in his seat, fidgeting like he wanted to leave the car.

Good thing Michonne thought to lock the door.

"Level with me. How much time do I have?"

Mr. Claus leaned back into the seat with a sigh, "It's not up to me. I can't say."

"Can't you give me a little bit of hope?" She knew she was sounding desperate, but she needed something to hold onto.

"Michonne, you've had the hope in you all along. Let it lead you."

"Okay. Okay." She swiped away the almost dried tears, figuring out Santa's golden nuggets had to mean something. They had to.

"Can I go now?"

Michonne fumbled to unlock the door. "Yeah."

Santa got out swiftly, considering the bulk of his belly.

As she was about to switch on the ignition, he knocked on the glass. When it was all the way turned down, Santa stuck his head halfway inside the car. "I will say this though, if and when you do return to your life I want you to remember it's never too late for second chances."

"A second chance at what exactly?" she flung back at him.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out." A mischievous grin spread across his mouth. He winked at her. The bastard winked at her!

There was that smug smile again, but Michonne couldn't risk another police intervention.

She grinded her teeth on her _thank you_ to Old St. Nick and drove off.

* * *

The alarm went off just as Michonne slipped back into bed, almost throwing her off despite her attempt to not jolt Rick out of his sleep.

Rick secured her, yanking her by the waist again so they could cuddle.

"Five more minutes, babe."

He always requested five more minutes, which made her laugh. She loved that they had a routine. Everything didn't feel mundane. Knowing Rick's quirks and kinks felt like happiness. Sharing a family with him felt like finally coming home.

She kissed the side of his face. "There are a few things we can do in five minutes, babe. You sure you wanna sleep?"

Nostalgia teased her, knowing she was on borrowed time.

One of Rick's eyes shot open, the sun's rays beaming into the room gave it a warm sea blue color.

"Like what?" He stared at her with intrigue, committing to her mischievous thoughts.

Michonne inched the duvet down a couple inches, displaying her naked brown skin for him to peruse.

A slanted grin pinned his mouth, he licked his lips, moving closer towards her. Rick glimpsed at the baby monitor, checking on their sleeping girls.

"How much time do you think we have?"

He was now sprinkling soft kisses down her neck and chest.

Michonne grew pliant in his hold.

"Idunno...enough?" Her words grew into a mumbled mess under his ministrations.

Her hands slid into his curly, attractive mess of bed hair just as he slipped the strap of her tank top past her shoulders. Rick kissed her breast, then with the same ease took her now hardened nipple into his mouth.

Michonne was in a state of awe, it appeared as though Rick had woken up turned on. He wanted her first thing in the morning like she was breakfast. She'd forgotten how much pull they had on each other. She'd forgotten how much they both craved each other's bodies.

"I want you," he said, his voice gravelly, his growing erection digging into her thigh.

"Then take me." Her legs widened at his desire.

He kissed her, inching his lips on hers until they were lip locked. Rick Grimes was a good kisser. He nipped and sucked in expert fashion, leaving her breathless and wanting. His tongue slid into her warm mouth, pulling a moan out of her on contact. Michonne smoothed her hands up the highway of his broad back, appreciating how in form he kept himself.

"You're so wet."

His tone was proud, sure. He knew he was the owner and initiator of her arousal.

"Please, Rick," Michonne begged, it might have been days for him, but she hadn't felt him possess her body in years. There wasn't a force on earth that could stop her from loving him with her body now.

"Patience, baby."

He was using _the voice,_ on her; the one that told her he would take care of her needs. His pink lips moved down her torso, after yanking the cover entirely off their bodies. Lifting her bare leg, he dropped specific kisses on key places on her delectable thigh. Then he dipped lower, lower, lower until his lips met her lips. He kissed her _there_ , intimately. Michonne felt like she was about to explode from his licks and kisses alone. Her hands tousled his hair, searching for something to stabilize her. It was pointless. Rick was releasing a good kind of havoc on her core as his tongue explored her further.

"You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, Michonne. How'd I get so lucky?" He spoke between his tongue plunging into her. Michonne felt consumed, like someone was setting her on fire, starting in her belly.

"Rick…," her voice fell away when he licked her outer folds.

Her hands left his hair to clutch the pillow beneath her head.

"You ready for me?"

"Can't you tell?" she threw back, her voice seductive, yet eager.

"I love when you use that mouth to sass me, among other things."

Rick positioned himself between her already spread legs, taking himself into his hands and stroking. He was just as excited, just as desperate as she was for him to be inside his wife. As he moved towards her heat, her body gave a slight tremble.

"Mama!" Zoe's groggy voice pierced the room from outside the door.

Michonne''s mouth formed an _O_ , not wanting to believe that their private moment was about to be snatched away.

"Terrorists! All of 'em!" Rick said, his head dipping in resignation on Michonne's chest.

"No! No, no. Don't say a word. She'll think we're sleeping." Michonne held onto Rick like he was the last dress at a Macy's Thanksgiving sale.

They both froze, like two comedians.

"Daddy! Marley had an ac-cid-ent, and I'm hungry!"

With acceptance that the moment had passed them like a full bus, Rick left the bed, pulling on a pair of boxers from the first drawer he pulled.

"I'm sorry, babe. To be continued." He walked back to the bed, kissing her on her forehead.

There were a few determined knocks on the door. "Mama! Daddy! Are you having private time?"

Michonne crushed Rick's pillow to her face, half wanting to scream, half wanting to laugh at the irony of her morning thus far.

Rick gave into it, laughing until his shoulders shook.

"We're coming Buggy!" she called out, to relax her daughter.

"Where are my clothes?"

Rick threw leggings and a shirt to Michonne, leaving her black lace panties dangling from his index finger.

"We have a date tonight." He held up the undergarment. "And you won't be needing this."

Taking it from him with a grin, she said. "I can't wait."

* * *

"This is the one tradition we have that I'm always unsure about," Rick said, draping his arm around Michonne, joining her on the couch. He handed her two piping hot cups of chocolate, making their cozy evening with the kids even cozier.

"You mean allowing them to opening a present on Christmas Eve?"

Zoe, Marley and Carl, all unwrapped one of the towering gifts under the glittery gold lights of the tall christmas tree. They were now heavily occupied by their presents, indulging in the childlike play that grabbed even adults at the most wonderful time of the year.

"Yeah, babe. It's like we're setting ourselves up every year."

Rick laughed, allowing his finger to caress her shoulder, clad in a maroon cashmere sweater that highlighted the pretty brownness of her skin.

"I don't know if the _big_ gift tomorrow will be a winner or a let down."

Her face squinted at how serious Rick appeared to be on the topic of gift opening, and the ramifications of sacrificing the wrong present on the altar of _first gifts_. She knew his concern was simply because he was a good, loving father to his children. He wanted nothing more than to see them happy. Disappointing them wasn't an option.

"I can't wait to open my scooter tomorrow!" Carl said, playing with his brand new set of Avengers Hot Wheels.

"I admire your confidence, son," Rick teased.

Carl squinted at his dad, making the father son resemblance, striking.

Marley was occupied, immersed in conversation with her brand new Barbie doll. Paw patrol, golf club set aside, Zoe was fascinated with the box her gift came in and had been playing with it for a little while now, with vested interest.

"Who's ready for mommy to open her gift?" Rick bellowed from his seat behind the kids.

The uproar of excitement began, when Rick bent under the tree to retrieve a small red box.

Four pairs of eyes rested on Michonne as she took her time to open the neatly wrapped gift. The girls climbed into their daddy's lap, Carl peered over her shoulder, already impatient with his mother's unwrapping process.

Michonne was savoring the moment, soaking up the love that flowed like a river between her family in their living room. It resonated inside her.

She knew reuniting with Rick, even in this world helped her realize she never stopped loving him. Seeing what they built together made her long for a second chance. There were a barrage of things she would have done differently. Here, Michonne was rich in heart and home. How she lived without it all this time baffled her tremendously. Now that she'd flavored her life with the sweet taste of family, she knew there was no way she could return from what she had grown to cherish.

With the pretty bow of the box removed, Michonne gasped when she saw a rose gold necklace with a dangling heart pendant resting inside.

"Rick," she said dumbfounded.

"It's so pretty, mommy!" Zoe beamed, from her father's lap.

"There's something on it." Rick pointed to the pendant, indicating letters etched on the piece of jewelry.

Michonne held it up to the light, the design of the initials of her and Rick's name, intricately entangled with the initials of Carl, Marley and Zoe brought tears to her eyes.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

She touched his stubbled face. Rick guided his hand to her neatly done locs.

"So are you."

"You took my design and made it into a pendant. Rick. Thank you. This means more to me than you'll ever know."

A stream of emotion threatened to drown her, but she gave into it.

Michonne had been doodling on her sketchpad over the past few days, so intrigued by the prospect of her husband and children that their names ended up as art on a single white piece of paper.

Just as before, nothing she did went unnoticed by Rick. She wasn't even aware when he borrowed the design.

"You know how talented I think you are. Your work is amazing, babe."

His support encouraged her, but she was afraid to dream any bigger in this matrix. Did it make sense to plan for the future when she wasn't certain where she'd be tomorrow?

"Now, wherever you go," he said, reaching over their two girls to clasp the chain around her neck. "We'll always be with you."

Michonne held his hand, before it slipped back around Marley and Zoe, she pressed a kiss to his palm. "Thank you. I didn't get you a gift to open tonight." She felt a tiny tinge of guilt for not knowing all of their memories and traditions. It saddened her somewhat.

Michonne wanted the chance to build her own memories with them. Something she could recall on her own with fondness and adoration.

"That's okay. I have the only gift I need." Rick touched her nose with his index finger. "You."

He planted a firm kiss on her cheek. Michonne had never felt more loved in her whole life.

"And me, Daddy!" Zoe said, not to be left out.

"And me, too!" Marley added.

"And you two."Rick said smiling, touching their pert little noses.

"So what am I?" Carl shrugged, folding his arms, watching his parents.

Michonne pulled him to her in a big hug. "You're my gift too!" She kissed his growing, brown hair as he collapsed on her.

There was a permanent grin on Michonne's face.

* * *

Dusk had fallen, giving way to a cozy night before Christmas. The family's red and green stockings were hung on the long birch wood Rick had hung up, in lieu of a mantle. There were wreaths on the windows and lights outside on the trees. It was the feeling of Christmas like she'd never experienced before.

As the five of them attempted to get even cozier on the couch to watch _Home Alone, - a_ christmas staple in their house according to Rick - Michonne's imagination grew wild at the prospect of celebrating a joyous occasion like Christmas day with her family.

She couldn't wait.

"They're out like a light." Rick returned from ferrying their sleeping kids to their beds. Two out of their three had fallen asleep soon after Kevin realized he accidentally abandoned his family and now had the house all to himself. Carl knocked out around the time Harry got shot in the groin with the BB gun.

"Christmas Eve is the one night they don't complain about going to bed early."

Michonne laughed at that one.

"Only cause they think Santa's comin'," Rick responded.

Michonne mused on the myth a little, now that she knew Santa was real, would he come to her house to drop off presents?

"I gotta eat the milk and cookies they put out."

Rick pointed to the freshly baked cookies resting on the holiday plate on the table, with a tall glass of milk next to it.

He rubbed his flat tummy, Michonne knew he was still stuffed from dinner.

"How about we don't eat the cookies this year, and you come over here for some real dessert."

With a cocked eyebrow, and the cookies long forgotten, Rick scooted next to Michonne on the couch, pulling her into his lap.

"Your offer sounds way better." He tugged her sweater halfway down her shoulder, and kissed the skin there.

"Good."

She leaned into him, needing to be kissed and touched by him, more than she needed to breathe.

"First things first." Rick lifted her top, bringing the soft material over her head. "We won't be needing this."

Feeling sexy and seductive, Michonne touched his midnight blue sweater. "Yours too."

Rick pressed his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to absorb how incredibly arousing Michonne was in her lacy pink bra. Michonne's fingers found their way to his bare chest. He wasn't bulky or extremely muscular, but there was an unrivaled manliness to his form that many hadn't achieved even after months in the gym. He was lean and tight in the places that mattered. His ivory skin was begging to be kissed; she dotted his chest with soft ones. Rick unclasped Michonne's bra, willing himself to not be distracted by her lips on his body. If he allowed his body to chug full speed ahead, the night would be over sooner rather than later. Without further delay, he took her nipple in his mouth, tantalizing her bud with his tongue. Michonne moaned, clutching his hair in a firm grip. He switched his wonderland, giving her other breast just as much attention as he did its twin.

Michonne grinded her rear on Rick's strained erection. She could feel it pressing against her thigh through his slacks.

"You keep doin' that baby and santa won't be the only one comin' tonight."

Michonne laughed at his sheer ridiculousness, content that they always were able to share their real selves with each other, including the cornier sides of their personalities. Well, mostly Rick's cornier side. Rick maneuvered their bodies, easing Michonne's back to the large sofa. She was almost certain in this chronicle of her life she and Rick had made love countless times on said sofa. He tugged at her shorts, biting his lip again on the discovery she wasn't wearing any panties. He peered at her, his blue eyes morphing to a midnight blue, which was a nod to how turned on he was by her.

"You said I wasn't going to need them later."

"That's right. I did." His pants came off in two blinks of an eye.

Michonne stopped and admired how striking he was on a whole. There wasn't anyone who'd come close to Rick in the looks department. She would know, she practically searched the whole world.

He was in a league of his own.

Her centre throbbed as the vision of Rick consumed her brain. She palmed her breasts and eased her legs apart for him to see how wet she was, how much he was wanted by her.

"Don't make me wait any longer," she said, her voice tight and precise.

"I won't." Rick stroked himself, finding his position at her moist entrance. He entered her slowly, inch by inch until he was at her hilt.

Michonne was speechless when he was all the way inside, deep into her heated passage.

It felt like their first time, perhaps in a way it was, for her. She loved that as much as he had possessed her body, he infiltrated her senses too. He smiled like a mixture of the hot chocolate they previously drank, a little bit like the kids, with a whiff of his cologne combined. It was a heady combination of all the things she truly loved. She licked and kissed the skin between his neck and collarbone as he moved determinedly inside her. The light dot of sweat on his skin somehow turned her on even more, producing more juice for his steady onslaught. His lips came down on hers, their tongues in a mating of their own. Rick's face was flushed, his olive skin showing a tinge of redness wherever her hands touched and grabbed. Michonne felt like after being in the desert for so long, Rick was her spring, she was drinking him all up with her body.

"Michonne…," Rick whispered her name like a prayer as he worshipped her body with his long strokes.

"Rick, oh God! You feel amazing." Finding coherent words was becoming a struggle as her senses took over. Her heartbeat was in concert, her belly, a fire pit as heat coiled there, threatening to either burn her into ashes or consume her alive. She didn't care, she wanted the takeover. Michonne squeezed Rick's behind, undulating beneath him.

"Mmm..baby, that's it. I'm comin' for you." His speech came out as a groan. She felt him buckle on top of her as he shot his seed into her with a strained force. Michonne followed soon after, her body clenched then released on him on a moan. Rick had given her another gift. It was Christmas after all, her ascension was the gift that kept on giving.

Rick brought her good tidings of climax and joy.

Their breaths were labored, Michonne felt different, changed in a way she never felt before. Rick shifted his weight, but Michonne held onto him tight; afraid that if she did, he would disappear.

"No, please stay."

"Babe... I'm too heavy."

She clutched him tighter. Everything felt exactly perfectly right between them.

"Rick. I love you."

"I love you too Michonne."

She tilted his head to look at her, "No. I mean it. I love you. I really do." The tears came then, without warning.

Rick eased his way out of her, he had gone soft, but she still craved the connection. He brought them upright and pulled her into his arms, soothing her back.

"Hey, come here. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Everything was wrong, but it all felt so right. "I just rather say it to you now, while I can."

"C'mon, no tears on Christmas Eve. Tomorrow is Christmas and it's gonna be a good day." Rick kissed the top of her head, pulling her locs to one side of her neck. He tossed the blanket hanging over the sofa over their naked bodies, not wanting her to get a chill.

"You promise?"

She sounded like a child, asking her daddy not to take her favorite toy away. She wished there was a way to stay in this place permanently.

She was afraid that even forever had an expiration date in this world.

"I promise," Rick said, pulling her tighter into his body.

Michonne closed her eyes, whispering a silent prayer. She hoped Rick was right. It was Christmas after all - the season of miracles.

* * *

Michonne's usually warm bed, felt frigid. There was a chill in the room. She assumed Rick left their bed to tend to one of the girls, leaving her to the draughty elements. With her eyes still closed, she reached out to Rick's side of the bed, finding only one pillow. Her heart began to race, _their_ bed had a lot of pillows. Sometimes, it was too much, and they ended up on the floor.

No! It couldn't be.

Michonne shot up on the bed, opening her eyes with caution, afraid at what she would find or _not find_.

Nausea gripped her once she realized she was back in her big, lonely apartment in LA.

"No!"

The dream was over.

"Rick!" she called out in vain. " Marls! Zoe Zoe! Carl!" The love of her life was gone. Her babies were gone.

"No, no, no! Please no!"

 _A glimpse into what could've been._

Her glimpse was over, the dream slipped right through her fingers. She was the sand, the dream of the perfectly imperfect life, the hourglass.

"Please no!" Michonne clutched the pillow, tears pooling in her eyes, leaking down her cheeks.

"They need me. I. Need. Them."

She would've given anything to stay with them; her apartment, her job, her career. None of it meant anything to her if she couldn't be with them, couldn't share it with them.

The blessing had become the curse. The dream was now the nightmare.

She didn't know what to do, what she should do.

Her iPhone lit up next to the Peruvian lamp on the night table she had imported from Thailand. She looked at everything in disgust. Holding her phone up, she set it back down without answering Andrea. She didn't want to speak to anyone.

Memories flooded Michonne; cuddles from Rick in the mornings, Carl's christmas play, family dinner, Christmas Eve traditions.

She had been window shopping on her own life all this time. Not making a purchase, just living on coupons. Her heart was completely broken. Her hope at some kind of miraculous second chance, shattered.

She was back in a life she didn't belong, without the people who made her other life worth living, at Christmas nonetheless. Hope crumbled at her feet. Michonne was ready to sacrifice everything for her family, but it was all for naught.

"Merry friggin' Christmas, Michonne!"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys, hope the New Year has been kind to you thus far. Sorry this took so long to update. Life is a bit hectic right now. I loved, loved, loved diving into this version of our faves. The fact you loved this story too was the icing on the cake for me. Thanks for all your likes and reviews. You guys really are the best! Enjoy the conclusion.**

 **Sophia**

* * *

If zombies existed Michonne would consider herself one. She felt hollow inside, almost like a shell of her former self. Emptiness took up the space where her heart had been full mere hours before. Ever since she woke up to her solitary life she had succumbed to a numb state. The tears she'd shed had dried, then started up again, then dried again. Thoughts of Rick and their babies haunted her. Michonne stepped from a dream straight into a horrible nightmare. She toyed with the possibility it really was a dream; days worth of bliss could've been legitimate hours of a deep sleep. When combined with the thoughts of _what if_ from her subconscious, and the wine she'd imbibed, it created a playing field for her wildest imaginations.

"It all felt so real," Michonne whispered, staring at the now cold cup of coffee she'd managed to pour for herself.

Her eyes burned. The beauty and love she'd savored over the last few days, or hours, or even minutes, left a gaping hole in her heart in its absence. Perhaps her dream theory had its merit. But if everything had all been a dream, what was the point? Every story was supposed to deliver some type of moral. What was hers? Hurt was slowly trickling into anger at being teased in such a torturous way. All Michonne had was regret, combined with not knowing how to begin to right her wrongs was a lethal combination to her already twisted emotions.

"What if I call Rick?"

She was talking to herself now, not really expecting an answer. Michonne nixed that idea. The last time she spoke to Sasha she mentioned he was seeing someone. They could be engaged, or married presently. A chill went up her spine at the thought. Her stomach coiled thinking about the love of her life married to someone that wasn't her.

She missed Zoe, and Marley fiercely, similar to someone missing a limb after it had been severed. Even if she and Rick reunited after all this time she wasnt certain if Zoe and Marley would exist in their lives. The thought broke her heart even more. Michonne tightened the tie on her robe, then took a sip of the cold dark brew to put something in her stomach. She was putting off checking her phone, she wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone just yet.

 _Thump. Thump._

Someone was at the door. The sound was similar to someone stomping their boots on a mat, reminding Michonne of _home._ It felt out of place in her usually quiet apartment building. Her neighbors were usually away on business most of the times. Some were like her, spending most of their time at their downtown offices, because making money was more important to them than having a life.

"Michonne?" A voice boomed from outside. Her chest heaved. It was Rick's voice.

Startled, Michonne's mug nearly slipped out of her hand. She padded to the door, her heartbeat sounding louder than her footsteps.

She swung the door open, holding a breath. Air expelled in a rush when she discovered Rick Grimes in the flesh standing on the other side.

"Rick!"

Michonne was in utter disbelief.

Rick smiled, brightening up the low lit hallway.

"I forgot the key you gave me," he said.

"Rick..." Was all she managed to say. He was a mirage, she a hopeless drifter.

Michonne pressed her fingers to her temples. Was she dreaming again? The black liquid in the cup was coffee. It had to be!

"Mornin'." He leaned into her and pressed a kiss on her cheek. "Brought you breakfast. Even got that fancy danish thing you like."

Rick handed her two white paper bags, tucking his newspaper purchase under his arm. He shrugged off his coat, remaining in his signature black jeans and a navy blue sweater that highlighted the true beauty of his blue eyes. Michonne was speechless as they moved from the small foyer into the living room. He felt so familiar, but yet far away.

Was this a surprise visit orchestrated by Santa? Or some kind of serendipity?

He sat on the chair opposite her, an awkward silence fell between them. A million things were at the forefront of Michonne's mind to say, but nothing came out. Rick eyed her with speculation, his mouth opened then closed, searching for words that obviously was supposed to convey something with meaning. Michonne felt like she was on the verge of unraveling. Everything about this Rick looked and felt different. His hair was longer for one; his curls touched almost past his ear. The salt and pepper beard she'd favored when he was her husband was more pepper and salt than the other way around.

In essence, he looked younger. Still attractive and handsome, but with a few less laugh lines.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked.

She watched him pause, then lean forward, reminding her of her last conversation with Mike. Only, she would do anything to let Rick be a permanent fixture in her life.

"You didn't think I'd leave just because we had a fight, did you?"

A headache gnawed at her temples.

"We're fighting?"

It was all making sense now. Well, kinda. She gathered this was yet another version of _them._

Seeing her concerned face, Rick was at her side in a blink of an eye.

"If we're fighting I want us to be fighting for something, together. I got up early. You were sleepin'. I didn't want to wake you. Took a walk. Got a good view of the city you love so much."

Michonne was now part of a twisted Christmas Carol. Rick spoke as if they were still together. She had no proper concept of time to determine the accuracy of her assumption. Remembering the newspaper Rick brought in, Michonne snatched it up, zeroing on the date blotted in black and white to the top of the page in arial font.

 _Thursday, December 24th, 2014._

She was back in her own life _but_ not in present time.

A grey duffel bag resting in the corner of her tidy living room caught her eye. He was visiting. From all appearances she deduced Rick flew in to see her. She was astounded by the fact.

"You hate flying."

She knew that much about him.

"But I love you."

His dreamy eyes remained fixed on hers.

Michonne was unsure of what to say. Still confused at yet another alternate universe unfolding.

"It's Christmas, and I don't want to fight anymore." Rick held her face in his hand. "I get how big Rosita's offer is. Last night you said being her assistant could be the start of something big. So if this is what you want then I'll move to LA. Carl and I will. That's how much what we have means to me."

Confusion hit her in the middle of her forehead, pulsing it's way into a migraine. Rick knew about the offer. Given the time stamp, her internship was officially over weeks ago. Rosita requested a meeting with her to conduct her internship review, then offered her the position of her personal assistant based on her remarkable tenure at Last Woman On Earth. She was yet to give a formal acceptance.

That had been the catalyst; the end of the end for her and Rick.

Except, now it seemed she was right back there at that major turning point in their lives. Rick was willing to risk it all for her, which heated Michonne's insides with guilt. She was so undeserving of his altruism.

"What about being the sheriff of King County?" It was Rick's dream. He was sure of his path from the day she met him. At this point, the position was practically his.

"I'll transfer. Get a job with the LAPD. It could work."

Compromise. Rick had been the one to come up with alternative ways for their relationship to work. She'd been the reluctant one. Back then their relationship had a question mark over it, but Michonne knew she loved Rick, she just wasn't sure of the sacrifice love was asking her to make. Now that she knew she was only half of the woman she was supposed to be without him, was love really a sacrifice, or an offering on her part?

She needed to find Santa. Again.

What was she supposed to learn or achieve in this warped reality? There was no Zoe or Marley for her to dote on. Carl was back home in King County. Her friends and family were over two thousand miles away. Rick was willing to give up his home for her so she could achieve her dreams, but she knew he'd be miserable in LA. Michonne was having second thoughts about second chances. Having a family for such a short space of time felt more like a gut punch than a giddy glimpse into what could've been, had she decided Rick was a priority over her career. Michonne was back in her old life a year after she left King County in what was vaguely feeling like the same predicament.

Michonne swiped her face and sat back on the couch, inhaling deeply.

"I wish I knew what to do here," she said, not so much to Rick than to herself.

He scooted closer to her on the couch, crowding her breathing space in the best way. He leaned on his knees and rubbed his hands together, his body came into contact with hers setting a spark inside Michonne. Memories of his hands roaming her body, taking charge of her pleasure the night before flooded her, leaving her wanting and unsettled.

"You can at least think about it," he said.

Her present thoughts landed her with the same conclusion.

"What if I said I wanted to go home?"

She knew those words were not part of their last conversation.

Rick shrugged. A low, cynical laugh left his lips.

"I don't think you'd be happy back home. You've taken a liking to _this_ life."

Michonne heard the not so subtle disdain in his throat as he mentioned _this life._ In hindsight she could see why they'd been fighting. Rick knew essentially he wasn't a permanent presence for her while she lived in the city. It eventually put a strain on their relationship. As Los Angeles grew in impact for her, King County grew faint in size and significance. Subsequently that meant so did the people that resided there.

It was the biggest mistake of her life. One she couldn't afford to repeat no matter which world she ended up in.

 _But with a lot of commitment and frequent flyer miles we made it work._

"LA is nice, but I think my time here is up. That's what I know."

For this life or her real life, it was a true sentiment.

"All I know is I miss you."

"You won't be happy here, Rick."

There weren't many Sunday backyard barbeques in LA like the ones they had at Daryl's house. No country dancing at Laverne's, unless you count that time Rosita competed on Dancing With The Stars. No sweet potato pie from her mom on holidays and special occasions. Despite the luxuries of living in such a technologically savvy city there were limitations - Amazon Prime was still unable to ship hugs.

Michonne missed home something fierce. Was she supposed to convince Rick of her choice? Was a happily ever after guaranteed for her?

"What's the point of being engaged? What's the point of planning a life together if we're apart?" Rick pointed to Michonne's left hand.

A light came on for her.

Her middle finger twitched with the weight of the gold engagement ring. She and Rick were engaged, she hadn't realized. They made it somehow. The full wedding set was gone, reminding her of happy days and sweeter nights with the kids and Rick. Michonne would give anything to convince him she was sure about what she wanted now. There wasn't any confusion in her mind. She would take any version of him as long as they were together. She just wished she knew how long she had him for this time.

"You're right. We should never be apart."

His azure eyes brightened in response to her. "So you agree? I move here? You still work at LWOE and we get a life together." He kissed her palm, melting her composure.

Michonne gave him a slow shake of her head.

"No Rick. No LA. I want to go home with you. Why don't you believe that that's what I want?"

"I guess I don't want you to choose. I don't want you to have regrets."

Maybe having a life with Rick and Carl was her win. Even if it felt like a consolation prize after what she'd experienced in her dream life. Michonne lived with the regret of leaving Rick behind, and all they would have achieved in that special time forever, knowing they could've had so much more.

She couldn't dwell on the past despite dwelling _in_ the past. She could see how selfish she'd been all along. Forsaking true love for a fancy life, undervaluing the presence of her parents in her life , and the real friends that'd help made her who she was, was the real tragedy. The fact that she'd landed back in LA and not in King County was her penance.

A mustard seed size of faith made her hope all was not lost.

"I love you, Rick. And I'm sorry I made things so hard for us."

"You were figuring things out. I get that you needed to do that."

"I figured it out. I know what I want now."

"You say that now, Michonne, but I need you to be sure of what you're saying." His eyes fell on the plush cream carpet below their feet, avoiding her gaze. "I've changed my mind. I want to go to your gala. I wanna be at your side tonight."

Michonne recalled when her internship was over she invited Rick to the annual Christmas Eve event, all expenses paid. Work commitments and a sick Carl had kept him from her. She always knew it was the beginning of the end for them. She always knew after that, she wasn't sure she could return home.

This time Rick showed up for her.

 _We fought for the dream._

Her phone rang for the umpteenth time that morning. She couldn't ignore it any longer. Sighing, Michonne excused herself from Rick to retrieve her phone.

"Michonne!" Andrea's voice sounded down right hysterical.

"Andrea -."

"Where have you been? I've been calling you since eight! We have a crisis! Everything is going wrong and I'm going to get fired after only a month here!" Her words were a jumbled mix.

"Slow down. Take a breath. What's wrong?"

"Everything! The caterers messed up the menus! Maroon Five is running late, and for some reason there are pigeons everywhere!"

Andrea barely got a breath in. She was sounding unhinged.

"At the hotel? Where's Rosita?"

"She's on a flight from China. She'll be here in time for the Gala. That's why I'm calling you! You're her go to."

There was a sense of pride that draped over Michonne like a brand new coat over the fact she was the one to call to out fires in Rosita's absence, but Michonne felt drained from the morning she had. She wasn't sure she would be a good fixer today. Rick walked into the bedroom, setting himself on the bed, his phone in his hand. She heard Carl's sweet voice, before she saw his precious face on the facetime call. Rick left Carl presumably in the care of his parents to come talk things out with her. At Christmas.

Guilt radiated off Michonne, but an ardent desire to finally make things right superseded it.

She knew what had to take precedence.

"Hello? Michonne! Are you there?!"

"I'm here. I'll be in soon Andy, but I'm dealing with something important right now. Listen to me, this is something I know you can handle."

"You sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. Believe in yourself Andrea. You can do this."

"Ok but - Oh my God! I gotta go! A pigeon just flew away with Aaron's hat. I'll see you soon!"

A thought occurred to Michonne, Andrea was a resourceful woman and could help her dilemma somewhat.

"Okay, but before you go, I need a huge favor…."

…

Michonne threw her phone on the bed, confident in Andrea's abilities to handle the problems at hand. She crawled her way to Rick, settling behind him on the bed. The ease and comfort she felt when Rick leaned into her was a feeling she never wanted to give up. She wished they could stay in the cozy position for the rest of the day. The Christmas Eve Gala was a welcomed tradition for the city and was an important event for the company, but Michonne was a girl finally getting her priorities in order. She was waiting for an opening to join the conversation. Carl got to her first.

"Chonne! There's like a thousand presents under the tree!" Carl's face beamed. Michonne's heart melted when Rick tilted his phone towards her to get a clearer view of Carl. She was just as in love with this younger version of Carl as she was with his older self.

"Hey bud! I'm sure Santa brought you exactly what you wanted."

"I hope so!" Carl's eyes animated. Seconds later a soberness that overshadowed his excitement caught her a little off guard. "Grandma said it's okay if dad isn't here on Christmas Day. She said pretty soon we'll all be together, and we get to do Christmas all over again!"

He appeared exhilarated about the prospect. Rick laced his fingers through Michonne's hand, in love with how easy it was for her and Carl to communicate with each other.

"We'll be home soon okay, Carl."

She didn't think she had the right to make assumptions, but there was no way she could spend Christmas away from her family. Not if she could help it.

"Okay buddy, I'll call you before bedtime okay. Be good for Aunty Sasha, and Uncle Daryl when they take you to the mall okay. Although I should be asking you to throw an eye on them." Rick laughed thinking about their friends. Michonne wondered if he had any idea a romance would soon be blossoming for their best friends.

Rick waved Carl off then pulled Michonne into his lap. His lips found their way to her, rapturing her in an all consuming kiss. He didn't want or need any words slipping between them. Their bodies were good at communicating the things they couldn't say. Michonne gave into the pressure of his lips on hers, allowing his tongue entrance into her mouth. She felt how warm his hands were as they crawled up her back. She pushed her body against his, her pelvis all but grinding into him. They moaned at the contact. Rick released her wet mouth reluctantly, delivering kisses across her collarbone. He dropped one last peck on an inviting spot above her cleavage. Their eyes met again, Michonne noticed how tussled Rick looked. She was glad to know his world had shaken too with just one kiss.

"Think about what I said. I'll wait."

She couldn't fault Rick for not putting too much faith in her words. She'd given him enough false promises over the last couple of months. He'd sacrificed Christmas with Carl to finalize what they had. She couldn't blame him for needing that kind of commitment, or that kind of closure from her.

Her fingers combed through his curls, settling on waiting too.

"Okay."

She had some thinking to do.

* * *

The Christmas Eve celebration turned out to be a huge success. All major crises were successfully averted. Michonne was pleased with the way the evening progressed; calm finally settled over Andrea, Rosita was the Belle of the ball. The Beverly Hills Hotel was synonymous with hosting glamorous affairs, but the purple and gold Christmas decoration theme - single handedly picked by Rosita herself - added to its elegant charm. The perfect aesthetic was critical for the designer. The black tie affair was usually well attended by Hollywood royalty along with the duchesses and dukes of design. Everyone brought their own touch of dazzle to the already glitzy affair. Drinks flowed like a river, the three course meal was well under way, and desert looked absolutely divine.

Michonne gave some last minute orders to the servers then returned to Rick. Andrea had been tasked with keeping him company in the atrium as soon as they'd finished dinner.

"You should come out here more often, Rick," Andrea said, winking at Michonne as she approached them.

"Maybe you should come down to King County. I'm sure you'd love it as much as you do here," Rick added, taking a sip of his drink, effortlessly charming the socks off everyone she'd introduced him too.

"I would love that. You guys have wifi down there, right?" she added as a joke.

Rick let loose a hearty laugh at the quip. He held Michonne's hand, sensing some measure of unease despite the pretty smile on her face.

"I'm okay."

It was a half truth at best. Michonne remained impressed with how in tune he was to her moods. Rick knew her weakness. He knew how hard it was for her to let go sometimes. What he didn't know was the depth of the love she had for him. It was her fault. She was running a fool's errand thinking she could live a life without real love. Without Rick. Andrea filled the lulls with random ramblings of her desire to live in a small town. LA smog was exhausting, she wanted a day to witness a sky full of stars, instead of a room full of them.

"Where we come from is the kind of place people from the city drive for hours to enjoy," Michonne said, knowing it was true.

Michonne caught a red suited figure in her peripheral darting across the low lit corridor. It was Santa. She hoped he was _her_ Santa and her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

She knew _he_ was going to show up. It was just a matter of when.

It was Michonne's chance to get some more answers. She'd get them even if she had to chase the man down.

"I'm just going to check on the souvenirs, make sure they're ready to be handed out."

"I'll do it." Andrea proffered.

"No, no. You relax. You did most of the work tonight Andrea. I got this."

Michonne turned to Rick, pressing her lips against his clean shaven face. "This is the last time. I promise. Then I'm all yours."

She prayed her statement had some sort of hidden truth behind it. Rick nodded, openly watching Michonne saunter across the hallway.

Michonne grabbed Santa by the hand as he stepped out of the men's room.

"Geez! You can't just sneak up on people like that!"

She folded her arms across her chest. "Funny you should say that. Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning. Only to realize I've been sent back a few years!"

She paused, waiting for jolly old St. Nick to explain himself.

"A glimpse, Michonne! That's what you got."

"And what do you call this?"

"A reset?"

"Are things ever going to be the way they were?" Not that she wanted them to, quite the opposite actually.

"Not if you get this story right."

Michonne leaned against the wall defeated. Santa folded his arms too, but continued to stare at her.

"I wish I knew what everything meant." She couldn't afford to screw anything else up.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know I got the _glimpse._ And I'll probably live with regret that I somehow didn't choose Rick, but now I'm back here and so is he, and I'm wondering…'

"Wondering what?" Santa leaned forward a bit, ready to hear her thoughts.

"If this is all we're going to have? If we could be happy here…"

Michonne knew the answer to that, even before she asked the question. The long distance set cracks in their relationship long before her internship was completed. If she decided to be Rosita's assistant she knew it would break them, and she could forget any chance of happiness with Rick. He wasn't going to be happy living in the expensive city. He was a southern boy at heart, home and country ran through his veins. If he gave all that up for her, it would cripple him in the long run.

She loved him too much to do that to him. Carl deserved to grow up with his grandparents and cousins. He deserved camping nights in his backyard and field trips to the Mayor's Office in King County.

"Sounds like you already know."

"I do. But he doesn't believe me…,"

"Do you blame the guy?" Santa folded his arms, not bothering to hide his smirk.

Michonne grinded her teeth. She was at his mercy. She kidnapped him in her dream life, but the roles were reversed. The kidnapper had been the one begging for her life.

"Why am I back here? At this time?"

"Because this was your turning point."

"Was it?" Michonne questioned, wishing she understood the man's rationale.

"Yeah, Michonne," he responded. "Leaving was easier than returning home. Or have you forgotten that?"

"No, I haven't forgotten."

It had been a trying time for her and Rick. Another Christmas where they weren't together. It was beginning to be the norm instead of the anomaly. At the time she thought it was a trade. A messed up bartering system, where to accomplish everything she wanted to in her life, she had to fail in other areas. Rick remained hopeful that everything fell even on the scale of life. She didn't see it that way.

Until now.

"What did he say to you? Do you remember?"

Somehow the conversation they had on the midnight picnic echoed in her brain.

"He said...he said I came back after my internship."

"So you gave up LA?" Santa was doing his best to coax the right response from Michonne.

"In my dream I did. And it's what I'm trying to tell him now. I'd give it all up."

"Does he know how serious you are?" Santa questioned, making her doubt her ability of persuasion.

"I told him -,"

"I know you did, but your words don't mean much unless it's backed up by action."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying as much as you've told him you love him, maybe now it's time to _show_ him how much."

Michonne looked out at the vintage yet modern looking hotel with it's blinding crystal chandelier, then she took in the rich and eccentric guests parading around in every popular designers' latest wear, but when her eyes fell on Rick the love she felt for him dimmed everything around her. It made her knees wobble. Nothing could ever compare to it. He had one hand dipped into his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass filled with a golden brown concoction - probably something from the south, like Jack Daniels. Anything else would be considered cheating, and Rick was a faithful man. Michonne smiled, more like grinned at all the things she loved about Rick. She'd walk away from it all for him in a heartbeat.

She knew what she had to do now.

"It's never too late for second chances."

She smiled like she'd aced an exam when Santa echoed the words she'd spoken in her heart.

It was the butterfly effect. Santa placed her back in the year that making a choice mattered the most. A year after she had the sweet life. A year after she thought she'd found her calling. A year after missing Rick hurt, but she was buried too deep in work to allow herself to feel it.

If this was her denouement, then she had to make it mean something.

"This is your second chance." Blue eyed Santa waved towards the room. "Trust your heart."

Santa Claus was talking past the sale, but there was one thing she needed to know.

"In my dream, everything was perfect. Rick and I were married. We had the girls and Carl. Life was perfect there. Why didn't you let me stay?"

Santa grinned, shrugging his shoulders in that _isn't it obvious_ way he had. "If you stayed there, you wouldn't be able to experience the joy of coming home."

Everything finally made sense.

"I know what I have to do."

"Good. Then my work here is done."

Santa winked at Michonne. On impulse she tiptoed in her Louboutin red bottom heels and kissed him on his rosy cheek. Their relationship had been volatile at best, but Santa reached into the stony parts of her, showing her Christmas time was truly a magical time. He never gave her the answers to the questions she posited, he made her work for it, guiding her to her own trusted conclusion.

With a little bit of heart, a lot of love, and a hint of magic the unattainable was at the tip of Michonne's finger tips.

… **.**

It took a lot of patience and timing, but Michonne and Rosita were finally sharing the same space. Michonne was finally ready to have that difficult conversation with her mentor. There were so many things playing in the back of her mind, things she could no longer ignore.

Rosita's stoic disposition seemed to be on break during the festive occasion, the shift in ambiance increased Michonne's bravado considerably.

"Something tells me you're not accepting my offer."

Always capable of reading the room, Michonne knew she couldn't hide her epiphany from Rosita.

"I'm honored, I am. But my time here is over."

Rosita stared at her, blinked twice then brushed a hand over a phantom stray hair.

"Rick seems like a nice guy."

"He's the best."

Rosita's eyebrows furrowed, she touched her chin pondering the undescribable glow on Michonne's face.

"I hope you don't regret this Michonne. You could've gone really far with your talent. I could've helped."

Her fingers played with her engagement ring, reminding Michonne of the significance of her come to Jesus moment.

"You've taught me so much Rosita. I could never repay you for all that you've done for me, but it's time I stand on my own two feet."

She wasn't just getting a new beginning with Rick, she was taking one for herself too. She'd get to be there for her parents. She'd experience Carl growing up right before her eyes. She'd laugh at Daryl and Sasha tripping each other into love.

Rosita nodded, seeing a buoyancy in Michonne she hadn't seen before.

"What are your plans?"

Michonne wanted to say marry Rick, start a line of her own and have his babies, but she kept the tidbits to herself.

"For now, I'm going to marry the man of my dreams."

"You're doing this for love, huh?" There was a trickle of incredulity in her ton., Michonne brushed it off. She wasn't expecting someone like Rosita to understand her motivation. She'd been saved in time. A few more years of lying to herself and she could've ended up like Rosita. Lonely, yet convincing herself she wasn't.

"I'm doing this for me. I deserve to be happy."

"I hope you're doing the right thing."

"I am." Michonne was one thousand percent certain.

"You're gonna need someone as efficient as I am. I recommend Andrea to take my place."

She was ready to advertise her friend. "She's smart. Trendy. And she's got some really good ideas." She was already getting her dream life, the least she could do was pay it forward.

"I'll take that into consideration," Rosita said.

Michonne noticed Rosita's face softened when Spencer came up behind her and whispered something in her ear. Her smile wide and genuine. She tried to contain her blush, but Michonne saw the pinkish hue creeping up her olive skin. Spencer managed the Communications team at the fashion house, he and Rosita worked many late hours together. Stevie Wonder could see the intense attraction, and chemistry between the two.

Michonne gave her a knowing smile, but Rosita quickly brushed it off.

"Well, I wish you the best Michonne. There's always going to be a spot here for you at Last Woman On Earth."

Rosita moved towards Michonne, giving her the equivalent of an Edward Scissorhands hug; cautious and distant, almost like she didn't want to nip Michonne's couture off the shoulder dress with her fingers.

Michonne shook her head. Typical.

"You know something?" Rosita asked, catching Michonne off guard. She more or less considered their conversation over.

"What?" She really just wanted to get back to Rick.

"I've always wanted to dip my feet in some southern style. When you're ready give me a call."

"What are you saying, Rosita?"

"I'm saying, I like you Michonne. And I think you have some really good ideas. Maybe King County needs you more than LA does. Maybe we can do a collaboration. Give me a call when you're settled."

"I don't know what to say."

Michonne couldn't believe the offer Rosita was extending to her, it would be remiss of her to turn it down.

"Say you'll give me that call."

"I will. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, chica."

Smiling Michonne was about to turn and walk away, but something pressed upon her to give Rosita some advice of her own.

"Rosita…," she called out.

"Yeah."

"You know you don't have to be... this," she pointed at everything within their radius.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you don't have to be the last woman on earth. There's more. There's gotta be more. Spencer has been smitten with you for a while now…"

Rosita gave Michonne a rare window of vulnerability with the sad, doubtful look that slipped onto her well made up face.

"It's a bit too late for me in that regard."

"You're wrong. Take it from me. It's never too late for second chances."

Impressed with Michonne's new found courage, Rosita asked, "How did you get so brave?"

"I stopped listening to my gut." Michonne gave her chest a light pat. "And started listening to my heart."

Walking away she heard Rosita mutter, "Good for you."

… **.**

Rick kept his eye on Michonne as she strutted over to him. She figured he'd witness the exchange between her and Rosita, and was probably just as eager to hear what her reception was just as she was to tell it. First she'd ogle her man for the hunk he was; Rick loved the quiet country life, but his Hollywood look could easily pass for a James bond type - with his jet black tuxedo, obedient curls, one hand in his pocket, and a glass of champagne in the other She could see him as agent 007. She'd tease him about that later.

"You alright?" he asked once she was within ear shot.

"I've never been better."

Rick tucked her small frame under his arm.

Michonne was all smiles, knowing they had their whole lives ahead of them. Finally.

"You told Rosita what you decided?"

"I did."

"What did she say?"

"She said when I get settled in King County give her a call."

"What?" Rick held her hands, trying to play catch up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she's now on the lookout for an executive assistant."

Rick's brow crinkled, a little confused at the words leaving Michonne's lips.

"Why would she be -,"

"I quit."

She couldn't keep her eyes off him. She wanted to capture every expression on his face as realization sank in. Rick loosened his hold on her. The grand orchestra played a Christmas melody in the distance, adding a timely soundtrack to their conversation.

"You did? Michonne..."

"Uh, uh, uh." She placed a finger on his lips. A waiter passed behind them, she retrieved Rick's champagne flute from his hand, resting it on the tray. She wanted him to be unencumbered when she poured her heart out to him.

"I wanted LA. More than anything. Maybe more than I should. I didn't think I could have a career and still have you. But I figured it out."

"But you're giving up your dream."

She gave a vehement shake of her head. "No, my dream is right in front of me. You're the dream. It's always been you. I want to go home, Rick. I want to be close to my parents and our friends. I want Carl to grow up in a place where he's surrounded by people who love him. But most importantly I want to be your wife."

A slow smile stretched on his face, reaching up to wrinkle the corners of his eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you too." She kissed him on his lips. "And after we get settled, I'm gonna design something, or open up a boutique or sell my clothes to a retailer. Or really give Rosita that call." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know." She was okay with not knowing. Everything didn't need to be figured out right away. "The possibilities are endless."

Her exuberance was contagious. Rick loved seeing her so happy, so sure.

"I've always believed in you, Michonne. In your talent. In what you could do."

"I know. You showed me I could do both Rick. I just needed to find out how. Thank you for giving me time to figure it out."

"I'd do anything for you."

"You amaze me everyday, Sheriff."

She knew it was going to become a reality.

"Sheriff, huh?"

She nodded her head with enthusiasm. Rick wrapped his arms around Michonne, not the least bit concerned that their love was on full display for everyone to see.

"You gonna give me babies?"

Rick pulled her closer to him, every inch of their bodies touched. He could already picture her rounded with his baby.

"Two beautiful baby girls," she said, knowing somehow Zoe and Marley were going to become part of their reality. Michonne was going to cherish every moment she was getting to experience with her family.

"Two girls, huh? I like the sound of that. Carl will be thrilled to be a big brother."

"He would." She knew how much.

"That reminds me. I have your Christmas present in my pocket."

"It's not Christmas. I can't open my gift as yet."

"Well from now on we get to open one gift on Christmas Eve. It'll be our very own tradition."

"I think I like this tradition a lot."

Rick fished a tiny red box with a small gold bow out of his pocket, placed it in the palm of Michonne's upturned hand.

She opened it like Zoe would, without hesitation.

Michonne's mouth gaped open when she saw the identical rose gold necklace complete with the unique dangling heart pendant Rick had given her in their other life resting in the box. Her heart leapt when she thought of the significance behind the cherished gift.

"Rick…" There was awe in her tone.

This one had the initials of her, Carl and Rick imprinted on it. She knew to look for the design before Rick said anything to her.

"I used your art. It was one of the last things you drew at my house. It felt like a sign to me. I knew I had to come out here. Let you know how much you mean to me. To us."

"I love it. Thank you." Tears filled her eyes. She was experiencing sheer joy.

"Maybe we can add more names to it soon." Rick said, his voice hopeful.

He locked it behind Michonne's neck at her request. She never wanted to take it off.

"My gift to you is two one way tickets to King County. We leave in five hours."

She'd gotten a special favor from Andrea who pulled a few strings to get her the tickets.

They'd be home just in time to spend Christmas Day with their son, and the people they treasured most.

"It's the second best thing you've given me today." Rick said, happier than Michonne had seen him in a long time.

"Merry Christmas baby."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

Michonne's hopefulness at Christmas time was nothing short of a miracle. Had she not made a wish on yesterday, she wouldn't have known the joy of grabbing on to today. Now that she knew Santa was real, and he specialized in second chances she was going to do her best with the gift she'd been given. She was no longer lost or alone. Freedom was holding her in his arms.

She was thankful.

"You ready to blow this joint?" she asked the man of her dreams.

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's go home."

 **End.**


End file.
